


The Dog Days Are Over

by djchika



Category: Glee RPF, StarKid Productions RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:46:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4786199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djchika/pseuds/djchika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plagued by a birthright he doesn't understand, Chris has lived his life on the run not knowing exactly what or who's giving chase. A fateful detour into New York City leads him to an unexpected savior, Darren, and suddenly home is an old hotel and family is a group of people each with their own missions willing to risk their lives to fight the good fight. It's almost perfect except for the looming threat of an unknown entity and the increasingly confusing relationship he has with Darren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dog Days Are Over

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a crossover but prior viewing of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel is not required to understand the universe. However it is greatly recommended since they're great shows!
> 
> Warnings: Minor (unnamed) character death.

_Run fast for your mother run fast for your father_   
_Run for your children for your sisters and brothers_   
_Leave all your love and your longing behind you_   
_Can't carry it with you if you want to survive_

\----------

Chris gritted his teeth as his boots hit the ground, pain running up his arm with every jolt. It was definitely broken. To what extend he wasn’t sure. His feet slipped in a puddle and his hand shot out reflexively making the pain intensify.

“Fuck!”

At the whispered curse Darren whipped his head to look at Chris, eyes scanning him over worriedly.

“I’m fine,” Chris assured him. He didn’t stop running, didn’t even slow down.

Darren nodded, but moved closer as they continued down the dark alley. The knife he was carrying glinted in the sparse moonlight.

_“Get him out of here!”_

Chuck’s words to Darren rang in his ears. He would be lying if he said that the thought of running hadn’t filled him with relief. Fear laced through him mingling with the warmth that meant the words etched across his skin was starting to glow.

He tried to steady what little breath he could catch. It was his marks that had prompted Chuck’s orders. Chris was more than capable of protecting his friends but revealing himself came with its own risks especially with powers he could barely control.

Rain had started to beat down on their heads, soaking the light jacket he had donned earlier and making him shiver as the wind blew around them.

They needed to get back to the hotel. A couple more blocks and they’d be home. Safe.

“Chris!”

The words jerked him out of his reverie just in time for him to dodge a garbage can. Chris pushed away the thoughts in his head and refocused on his surroundings. It was bad enough that Darren was tasked to protect him he didn’t need to make things any harder than they had to be.

Darren rounded a corner and Chris followed, the warm comfort of security washing over him when he saw the building they called home. They reached the back door a split second before the skies truly opened up in a downpour.

Inside the hotel was dark and musty. Silent in a way that it never was anymore not since Darren and Chuck had started adopting people from the street. People who were fighting the good fight just as hard as they were.

The shelter the hotel offered did nothing to stop him from shivering.

“We need to bandage-”

“I’m fine,” Chris insisted, convincing neither of them. He’d need to have it set and put in a cast but his broken arm was the least of his concerns. “I’m sorry you had to leave him.”

The look on Darren’s face tore at Chris’ heart. It was his fault that Darren was here without Chuck. It was his fault that all of their friends were in harm’s way.

“You know we would die for you,” Darren said quietly, “Any of us.”

Chris nodded his throat tight. He knew they would. He knew that each of them would die for the other. But most of all, any of them would die for Chris. Sometimes he wondered about the sanity of his friends if they were willing to risk their lives over the words of a mystical being, especially one that didn’t respect any of them enough to provide an explanation.

He didn’t voice his thoughts. It was an argument repeated a million times without resolution. Instead he settled himself into the couch, cradling his broken arm. Next to him, Darren sat, his eyes on the door, ignoring the fact that both of them were still drenched.

With his good arm, he searched for Darren’s fingers, clutching his hand against his thigh. Side by side they waited to see which of their friends would come home.

\----------

“Goddammit, Chuck!” Darren’s voice exploded through the slightly open door, punctuated by the slam of a book against a wooden table.

Chris jumped at the sound, grateful his reflexes knew not to grip the sharp blade he had been carefully wiping with a solution-soaked cloth. It would be exactly his kind of luck to have his arm back in commission only to cut through his hand.

"What bone do you need to break to get through your thick skull?" Darren yelled at Chuck. “Your leg’s already in a cast how about we break the other one next?”

Chris held his breath waiting to see if they would walk into what everyone called the weapons room but really was a space twice the size of Harry Potter's cupboard hidden behind the walls of their makeshift library. When he was sure the beat of Darren’s shoes against the floor signaled he was pacing but not coming closer, Chris quietly lay down the cloth and knife and slowly lowered the volume on his iPod.

Eavesdropping was a dick move but Chuck had become more and more secretive and being kept in the dark didn’t suit Chris’ curious nature especially when it was about him.

"He's the only lead we've got," Chuck said in a much softer voice than Darren but no less firm. “The mission ended badly but that doesn’t mean he was wrong.

Chris snorted. Ended badly was an understatement. They had people in the hospital after that mission. Vampires weren’t one to care about casualties but that night was different. They weren't fighting for survival or bloodlust. They were fighting for a cause.

"I don't trust him, Chuck. We almost died. You almost died." Darren pointed out.

"Only because we were unprepared."

"Prepared for what? Most of our people went in there not even knowing what we were after."

"It blows keeping them in the dark but we don't know jack shit either. The Conduit was clear about two things, we protect Chris at all costs and we find that scroll before anyone else does."

Chris scoffed. Oz had gone through great lengths to get access to The Conduit. They were the only way to talk to the Powers That Be, higher beings that were supposed to know all and see all.

It was as useful as any church he’d ever visited. It was Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz. Voices had greeted them at their arrival but nothing else occupied the room except for a single bowl of fire on a pedestal.

“Your safety, marked one, is the utmost importance,” they had decreed. “All answers lie in the Kosundi.”

“You want us to get Indian food?” Oz had asked. Chris admired his ability to stay glib in the face of, well, there weren't really in the face of anything. There was no body either.

“The Scrolls of Kosundi,” the voices clarified, obviously looking down their nonexistent noses at them, “They are the answers you seek.”

With a gust of wind they had been unceremoniously ejected from the chamber where Darren and Chuck had been waiting for news.

“Assholes That Be is more like it," Darren had growled after their very quick update. “You know what? I can give a -

“- rat's ass about your damn scroll," present Darren's frustrated voice broke into Chris’ thoughts, mirroring his past sentiments. “That scroll is not as important as making sure I can still tell people I have a brother who’s-”

“- in a band?” Chuck cut him off with a wry laugh. “That dream died a long time ago, little bro.”

“I was going to say a pain in the ass,” Darren snapped, “And I’m sorry if I don’t want you to end up the same way.”

“Something’s happening out there, Dare, and the Scrolls of Kosundi might help. Every night there are more vampires, more demons, more people we can’t save.”

"So fucking what? When did it become our responsibility to save the world?"

“You know when.”

There was a pause and even through the walls Chris could feel the weight of those words.

Darren, let out a frustrated breath, calmer but still agitated. "I'm telling you this is a bad idea."

"Then find me a good one and we'll talk. Until then Oz is setting this up."

“And then what happens if we do find a scroll? Find a prophecy like Oz said? Let it dictate Chris' _purpose_?” Darren said his disdain evident, “He’s no warrior. We had to get him out the last time. He’s a kid.”

"That ‘kid’ came out of your room this morning if I'm not mistaken," Chuck teased apparently trying to lighten the mood.

Chris bristled. Damn hypocrite. He was no more than two years younger than Darren and Chuck was right. Darren had fucked Chris into the bed more times than either of them cared to admit and vice versa. He didn’t seem to think Chris was too young then.

He had the sudden urge to pick up one of stakes on the table and throw it at the library’s general direction.

Darren sighed. “He can’t control it, Chuck.”

Hurt flared in Chris’ chest. They were far from lovers or in any kind of healthy relationship but he thought that he had at least earned Darren’s trust as a teammate. Darren had trained Chris, the least he could do was have faith in him.

Chuck’s next words gave him little comfort. “Give him a chance. Oz said they’re making progress.”

Darren didn’t say anything but Chris’ ears perked up at Chuck’s next words. “Which reminds me how’s your progress?”

Was there a new mission he didn’t know about? A special assignment for Darren?

“What are you talking about?” Darren asked, apparently as confused as Chris was.

The mischief in Chuck’s voice was obvious. "Oh nothing, I was wondering if you’re anywhere near telling him that my stubborn, bull-headed idiot of a brother is stupidly in lo-"

There were a million things Chris wanted to hear, details on their missions, secrets being kept from him about the scroll, but one thing he definitely didn’t want to hear was the rest of Chuck’s sentence.

Panicked, his eyes darted around the room for an exit and when he couldn't find one he did the next best thing. He pushed the line of stakes he had been whittling off the table.

The loud clattering served to effectively end the conversation. It offered Chris a split second of relief before he realized it meant the two of them were sure to enter the room.

He quickly dropped to the floor, making sure to turn up the volume on his iPod as high as it would go. Music blasted into his ears making him wince. He ignored it, trying his best to act nonchalant when a tentative hand pulled open the fake wall and Chuck walked, leaning heavily on his crutches.

“Hey,” Chris said, popping out his earphones and setting it on the table, music still coming out from their teeny speakers. “I didn’t hear you come in,” he lied, the words tripping over his tongue. Chris reached for the nearest stake and then another. If it also served as a way to not look Chuck in the eye then so be it.

“Mmmhmm,” was Chuck’s knowing reply. Even with his nonresponse Chris swore he sounded more and more like a dad as time went by. “I’d help but I’m not exactly mobile enough to kneel yet,” Chuck gestured to his encased leg. He smiled when he realized Chris on the other hand had use of both his arms. “I see you got yours off though.”

 

"Back to its old, clumsy glory,” Chris replied, grabbing the last of the stakes and putting them back on the table. “It's good for stake making again at least. That cast was cock-blocking my whittling game."

“I know what you mean. I can’t wait to get mine removed,” He sat down next to Chris, leaning his clutches against the table.

From the door Darren’s voice cut in. “I vote it stay on. Sort of like an ankle monitor. Maybe it’ll keep you out of trouble.”

“Hand me one of those stakes, will you Chris?”

“Before you think about committing fratricide, Joey’s been yelling for you. Tonight’s delivery arrived. They need you to sign for it.”

“I just sat down, man,” Chuck whined. “Can’t you sign for it?”

“Tried. Something about the order being larger than normal.”

Chris handed him his crutches with a sympathetic wince. “Which socialite are we having over tonight?”

“One of the many who doesn’t seem to realize that parties like these attract more than your run of the mill low life,” Chuck said as he hoisted himself up. “Who’s staying in later?”

“Joey’s at the door. Lauren’s on bartending duty. Walker and Julia are stationed out back,” Darren reported. “With so many of their friends suddenly going missing you think they’d learn.”

“Well they’re keeping the business afloat so I’m not going to complain. Much.” Chuck rapped one of his crutches against Darren’s shin as he walked past, giving him a look that Chris couldn’t decipher.

Darren ignored him, dropping into the chair Chuck had vacated instead. Chris could see anger still simmering in Darren’s eyes but the smile he gave Chris was nothing but gentle.

“I’m glad you have full function of your arm again,” he said, one hand reached out, waiting for Chris to offer his hand to Darren. No matter how many times they kissed or fucked or slept in each other's beds Darren always waited for Chris to let him in. Fair enough if he considered how much of Darren he kept to himself.

He hesitated remembering what Darren had said about him. It still stung but no good would come from bringing them up now.

Chris placed his palm on top of Darren's, enjoying the warmth that seeped through his skin. It had nothing to do with the lines that crisscrossed across his arms, spelling out ancient words he couldn't understand. It was warmth that spelled out comfort and a familiarity he never thought he'd know.

"I'm glad too. It was definitely cock-blocking more than my whittling game,” Chris said, his voice heavy with innuendo. No, there was no use bringing up the conversation with Chuck. He wasn’t willing to mess up the only good thing to exist in their hell of a city. 

“Mr. Colfer are you inviting me up to your suite?” Darren whispered into his ear, sending goose bumps traveling up his arms. Chris shivered, his body's obvious response to Darren's proximity earning him a smug grin.

“Tonight?”

“Patrol,” Darren said with a grimace.

Chris shrugged. "I’m still benched but Oz said he needed help with research.”

"Perfect," Darren’s thumb lightly grazed Chris' pulse point. It settled over a slight bruise brought about not by battle but by Darren’s lips. “I’ll see you later then.” His thumb pressed down for a brief second as he stood up, sparking in Chris the barest hint of pain coupled with an overwhelming desire.

Darren walked out of the room and Chris let out the breath he was holding. He shivered, remembering the marks Darren had left across his skin. Nothing like the ones he detested. These marks were full of memories and desire and promises whispered between sheets. He knew never to take them seriously no matter what Chuck assumed. Chris had learned that lesson a long time ago.

\----------

The echoing toll of the grandfather clock greeted Darren as he descended the grand staircase. He was careful not to stick to the railing. One of the residents had taken pity on the chipping paint and taken it upon himself to restore it.

It was a valiant effort but one that was futile considering the state of the rest of the hotel. Half-finished rooms, an abandoned ballroom in the basement. The only finished portion of the building was the once cramped first and second floor that was now a sprawling lobby.

Darren remembered the first time he had seen the hotel. Eyes wide and full of hope, he and Joey had moved to New York right after college and gotten jobs at the theater.

Back when New York was the center of arts and fashion, their building housed one of the city's many attractions. The McKittrick offered a night of intrigue and mystery only to be abandoned when the murders around the city had started becoming much grislier than anything the theater could possibly imagine.

It had closed, attempted to reopen, stayed closed. His father had gotten wind of the property at a foreclosure auction and a hotel turned into a theater turned into a hotel appealed to the boy with a theater degree from some big school in the Midwest.

Darren had believed in a dream even when everywhere else in the city people were losing hope in a dying city like New York.

It was a lifetime ago since then.

“Going out early?”

Darren looked up from where he was getting his coat and saw Julia coming out of Chuck’s office.

“Yeah, I have a couple of errands,” he replied keeping the lie vague. The truth was a lot more complicated than he wanted to share. Especially not with someone who could read him as easily as Julia.

They had dated once, been friends for longer and because of that he could always count on her to be the most honest with him. He had been subjected to that honesty more than once when the subject of his non-relationship with Chris came up.

He appreciated his friends and family but damn they were nosy.

“Besides,” Darren said, attempting to keep the tone light. “Someone has to do the dirty work while you’re all busy partying.”

Julia scowled. “I’m out in the cold with Walker. That is not my idea of a good time.”

“If you let him I’m sure he’d find a way to warm you up,” Darren teased.

“Try and he gets a stake up his ass,” Julia shot back easily. She waited for him to get his coat on before she asked “Darren, you’ll tell us if something’s up with you right?”

“Yes, mother.” He gently squeezed her into a hug. She nodded and handed her his scarf with a quick peck on his cheek. She was no more than four feet away when he yelled, “Enjoy your date with Walker.”

“Maybe I’ll shove a stake up _your_ ass.” Julia said flipping him off.

Laughter exploded from the mismatched set of couches that served as the hotel communal area. He couldn’t see Joey but Darren would bet that the long leg Lauren was squirming away from on the couch was his. Joey's toes were wiggling in front of her face as if he was trying to catch Lauren’s nose with is toes.

In the armchair in front of them was Chris, glasses slightly askew, book on his lap forgotten as he laughed at their antics.

Julia went over to sit on Chris’ lap, dislodging the book completely. Chris bent around her to try to pick up the book, his eyes meeting Darren’s when he looked up.

The smile Chris gave him was an invitation but pretending to be okay for the sake of his friends was the last thing Darren needed. He averted his eyes, settling instead on the mirrors that lined the walls underneath the staircase and catching his reflection. The scar on his neck stood out, an ugly reminder of his introduction into this world.

His dark mood settled around him, heavy with memories.

They had so many plans for the place but what was it that they said, “You plan God laughs?”. The Catholic school boy in Darren still cringed at the blasphemy but faith was hard to come by and Darren had long stopped searching.

He pulled his scarf on with a violent tug hiding it from sight and headed for the back door.

It was going to be a cold night but nothing warmed up his frozen heart like killing vampires.

\----------

Chris shivered as the cool night air danced across his skin. There were small pockets of time when he was grateful for his abilities. Cold nights were one of them, especially when he needed the sanctuary of the rooftop.

He breathed in, trusting in the warmth that built underneath his breastbone, slowly pushing it outward until the marks on his skin glowed the lightest of blue.

It was far from enough light to cast even a shadow and he was glad for it. He wasn’t interested in becoming a beacon, not when the stars barely illuminated the sky. Dark nights served to emphasize the lifelessness of the city even more. Abandoned buildings littered each block and even the once brightly lit Broadway Street was in disarray.

Tourists no longer came to New York. It was cursed. Just as he was.

He wasn’t narcissistic enough to believe any of it was his fault. New York was doomed even before he had set foot in the city but hearing Darren and Chuck argue about risking their life for him made it feel like he was to blame for their latest round of miseries. Seeing Darren sneak out of the hotel that evening had started his stomach churning with guilt.

Chris splayed his hand against the cold concrete, watching the moonlight catch on the symbols on the back of his hands. White marks against pale skin meant it was barely noticeable but Chris still kept a steady supply of long sleeved shirts and sweaters. It was a superficial comfort, the idea of blending in.

He pulled up his sleeve, following the trail up his forearm. They were the ones that he had memorized long ago. Lines he had wanted to scrub off his skin every time he took a shower. He had thrust them under hot water once and had only laughed through tears when they started glowing. That was when he realized that the symbols he hated were the same ones that protected him from harm.

A charm and a curse all in one.

He let the tips of his fingers glow brighter to chase away the cold before dulling them down again. Darren was wrong. He could control his powers. Controlling them was a new development. Years training with Oz were finally paying off. He couldn’t wield them as a weapon yet but soon. Stopping himself from glowing every time he was threatened was already a big improvement.

That was what happened the first time he had met Darren. Chris had barely been in New York a week and hadn't expected to stay. It was hard to believe in permanence when living your life on the run meant every place was a detour to somewhere else. Darren saving his life changed all that.

He shivered, not from the cold but from the memory of how terrified he had been. The vampire had caught him off guard, fresh off a bus from Boston and still rattled after needing to leave in the middle of the night.

"Newcomers are always fun," the vampire had snarled, cold hands gripping his neck and pinning him against a storefront window, “No one ever comes looking for you when you disappear."

Chris would have laughed if his windpipe wasn't at the mercy of the vampire. He remembered thinking that after years of running he was going to die in the hands of a monster looking for food. It was exactly the ironic ending he expected of his life. He had wondered if his foster mother was right and that heaven would never open its doors for people like him.

"You're a little scrawny," the vampire's face contorted, forehead popping with ridges, teeth elongated into fangs, "but the night's still young. I can get seconds."

"Manners, manners. Didn't mommy ever teach you not to insult your food?"

His tormentor had whirled around, attention trained on a young man, dressed in torn jeans and a hoodie with a long, pointed stake in one hand. Relief and gratitude still flooded him whenever he remembered the first time he heard Darren’s voice. In his mind Chris saw thick eyebrows framing hazel eyes that held a touch of humor even as it glinted dark and dangerous.

“Leave or get eaten,” the vampire ordered.

“Playground rules say you should pick on someone your own size,” Darren had looked at the vampire, then at himself and smirked self-deprecatingly. He was a good six inches shorter.

“Okay,” he admitted,” that one’s never worked for me, but you should never judge a book by its cover, man, or in this case, never judge a small dude’s ability to stake your ass.”

One minute he was pinned against a window and the next Chris had felt hard metal collide with his head. He had coughed, attempting to draw air into his lungs even as he touched a hand to his head, fingers coming away with blood.

Red on his fingers triggered a wave of nausea. It rushed through him followed by a telltale warmth. Panicked, Chris had wrapped his arms around himself as if to physically contain the heat building. He knew what it would do to the vampire, but what it would do to his new savior he hadn’t known.

Brighter and brighter it had burned through Chris, forcing his own eyes shut until it seemed to explode from him. From far away Chris had heard a scream followed by the unmistakable sound of a vampire turning into dust.

Silence had been immediately followed by a loud. "What the fuck was that?"

He had been too disoriented to stop Darren from prying Chris’ arms from his stomach to see if he was okay. A weak attempt to yank his arm away from Darren proved futile.

“Again. What the fuck?” Darren whispered, looking at Chris’ illuminated face then down at the same marks on his hands and neck. The rest of them were covered by his clothes but Chris knew they were still emitting a faint glow.

“Let me go!”

“Not until you tell me your story, glow worm.”

Chris had glared at him, annoyance at the patronizing tone overpowering the fear he still felt. “I’m not telling you shit. I don’t even know you.”

The guy had actually rolled his eyes at him before saying, “I’m Darren. I like beaches, sushi, and small animals that are nice but not the human-sized kind that like to bite you and drain your blood. Part-time bar owner, part-time defender of idiots who are stupid enough to walk alone at three in the morning. Now fucking tell me, why you’re lit up like a night light because you have a pretty nasty cut there and I'm not leaving you to die after I just saved your life."

He raised his eyebrows at Chris impatiently, waiting for a response.

"Can I stop bleeding first at least?"

He had given Darren the abridged version. Marked since he was a kid, chased by people, vampires, demons his whole life. Running didn't afford him the luxury to ask questions so he never knew what they wanted from him. Only that at sixteen he had gone home to his most recent foster family's house and had found all of them dead. The vampires who killed them still in the house waiting for him.

 

The memory of that life seemed so far away now. Darren had taken him back to the hotel, appealing to his common sense that a building full of trained fighters was better than a shady motel in the middle of nowhere.

Chris smiled remembering the first time he had arrived at the McKittrick. He was introduced with little spectacle. "This is Chris. He glows," Darren had told the little group that gathered.

"This is my brother Chuck.” Even if Darren hadn’t pointed out their relation Chris would have easily figured out the two were brothers simply by the way Chuck had welcomed him no questions asked, trusting that Darren wouldn't lead any of them to danger.

Darren then pointed to a spiky-haired blonde who Chris couldn’t help but notice was even shorter than Darren. “That’s Oz. He's complicated like you."

Oz responded with a laconic, “I’m a werewolf. Not so complicated. So you glow?”

After that was a parade of faces and names Chris tried desperately to memorize.

Joe Walker was a muscular boy who gave Chris a friendly smile that also declared he knew exactly how hot he was.

Lauren, tiny brunette, large brown eyes, took to him like a barnacle, dragging Chris through the hotel on a whirlwind tour that served to confuse more than educate.

It was Julia who would later show him the ropes, teach him which areas were communal and which were off limits. Chris quickly learned that she was the group’s den mother even if Chuck served as their defacto leader.

Joey, the tallest of the boys, had taken one look at him, grinned crookedly and asked “Does it…” he mentioned vaguely to his groin, moving his eyebrows up and down as if it was an acceptable way to ask how far Chris’ marks went.

“No, it doesn’t,” Darren answered for him when he had seen how red Chris was quickly becoming.

Joey whooped. “Holy hell, you work fast, Criss,”

"Pervert," Darren said giving Joey a friendly shove. "I used my words like a normal human being."

"I'll be your training buddy," Joey announced unprompted, swinging an arm around Chris. "No use getting any more of his cooties on you."

Tiny puffs of air formed in front of him as Chris laughed at that memory. Their training had lasted one session. Darren took over when it became obvious Joey was more interested in making Chris laugh than sparring with him.

He leaned against the rooftop wall, his eyes shifting from the city lights to the shadows of the rooftop, his mind likewise shifting to more confusing thoughts.

Chuck may be obsessed with finding the truth about Chris but Darren was Chris' own enigma. As a friend Darren was playful and accessible, as a lover he was attentive but secretive, as a fighter and a teacher he was focused and unyielding.

All of that made up who Darren was, but it never seemed like Chris was seeing the complete picture.

It made him wary of confronting his feelings for Darren but he was old enough to recognize the chemistry between them and compartmentalize everything else. Chemistry spurned on by violent energy and adrenaline had been the reason their training sessions had quickly turned into something more.

Anything before that, back when they were simply friends, was unthinkable. Friendship had the risk of turning into serious relationships and Happily Ever Afters didn’t exist in their world.

Chris shook his head as if trying to physically shake off the somber thought. He had thought the rooftop would help him unjumble his head not pull him in even deeper into turmoil.

The wind picked up the music coming from the street, lifting Chris' heavy heart with the thought of his friends. Better to get lost in the noise of The Harbor rather than bring his thoughts to bed that night.

He pushed off the wall, decided on his destination. Oz’s research can wait. He was cursed no matter what they found out. One night of partying wasn’t going to change that.

\-----------

“Who’s the cutie with the ink?"

Joey didn't look up at the voice at first. He was busy grabbing the needed ingredients for another sickly pink cocktail with practiced ease. He had spent half the night covering for Lauren who at the moment was doing more flirting than actual bartending.

He didn't mind. Her flirting was for show, same as his was, and it was either he manned the bar or stayed out in the cold with Walker. Julia had decided she was taking over the door otherwise there was a high risk she was going to stab him with a stake.

A secret pool was going around on when the two of them would finally fuck. If Julia asked Joey had nothing to do with it.

Finishing the drink with a flourish, he served it to the sweet brunette with a friendly wink before glancing towards the other end of the bar.

Nestled between Lauren and an Abercrombie model was Chris. He was doing the requisite oohing and ahhing as Lauren dazzled Abercrombie with some of the basic spells she had learned. It was nothing more than flashes of light, a pale comparison to what she could really do.

“Chris?" Joey asked, practically yelling over the loud music. "You don’t want to go there. He’s gay and the guy he's seeing has a stick the size of Texas up his butt."

She pursed her lips into a smile that Joey didn’t trust, red warning flags flying up in his head. “I bet Chris is real special," she drawled.

Joey’s eyes trained on the girl’s neck watching for a heartbeat. At the same time he pulled a bottle of unmarked Holy Water from underneath the bar. “Why don’t I give you a drink on the house?” he asked, pouring the water into a glass. "Vodka tonic?"

She drummed her nails against the counter allowing Joey to make quick mental notes. Light brown hair, possibly dark blonde. Blue eyes. His eyes scanned quickly for a tattoo or birthmark but it was hard to see in the dimly lit room.

“No," she said, giving Joey a big smile, teeth flashing in the strobe lights. ”I think I'm done for the night."

Joey gripped the glass. It took all of his restraint not to throw the contents at her retreating back. He looked down the bar and saw Lauren eye the girl then look back at him, eyebrow raised. Joey answered with a subtle shake of his head. He wasn’t going to let her run after that chick half-assed. He wasn’t 100% sure if she was a vampire but he’d bet his entire Julia-Walker pot money she wasn't human.

He cocked his head at Chris and motioned towards the door that lead inside. It confused Lauren for a moment until the order dawned on her, fear filling her expressive eyes for a brief moment. They were some of the few who knew about Chris and the scroll. Specifics weren’t disclosed but they knew its importance and the danger it posed to everyone. Lauren was particularly aware of those dangers. She had the concussion and the scars from a vampire bite to prove it. There were still days that Joey had to talk her down after waking up from nightmares.

It didn’t deter her from doing her job. Lauren was a good enough actor that Chris didn’t even notice he was being handled. It made Joey proud and heartsick at the same time.

As soon as both of them were safe away from the crowd, Joey sent a quick heads up text to Julia and Joe and then finally to Chuck. His fingers scrolled down to Darren’s name but quickly reconsidered, pocketing his phone instead. No good would come out of telling Darren now. Not when they were working on nothing but Joey’s instinct. It could wait. Might as well give Darren a good night’s sleep.

\-----------

Three a.m. was magic hour.

Quiet greeted Darren, the faraway sound of the attached bar muted by soundproof walls. Last call would start soon but until then it was still alive with music and warm bodies.

The Harbor was the only area open to the public and the only place in the hotel Darren avoided.

He walked away from the sound, stopping by the reception desk turned kitchenette to prepare a fresh pot of coffee. The first shift was back but the second shift was still out. They’d appreciate a warm cup when they came back.

Adrenaline still coursed through him and Darren considered going down to the training room to work off the energy. His eyes spotted the book Chris had been reading earlier and he pushed away the reminder that another option was waiting for him.

He was more than welcome in Chris’ bed. He was expected. Darren could slip into his room and lose himself in Chris but memories he worked hard to push away had risen and settled beneath the surface of his skin. It would be far too easy to allow Chris to dip into his demons.

What was going through his messed up head was his cross to bear. It wouldn’t do any good to open that door for anyone. Least of all Chris.

Darren left the book where it was and got into the elevator, pulling off his coat and scarf as he went. Daren kept his eyes on the floor and off his reflection on the elevator doors. A phantom pain burned at the scar on his neck and he itched to cover it up again.

He got off at the sixth floor, his feet slowing down on its own accord when he reached Chris' suite. He paused with his hand on the door knob before forcing himself to pull away and walk further down to his own room.

It was only with Chris that Darren slept peacefully. Those nights he didn’t dream.

Tonight wasn’t going to be one of those nights.

\----------

Smallest sounds roused Chris from his dreams, consciousness rising to the surface in a snap. It was reflex he had learned a long time ago when the risk of capture was high and four walls were never enough to make him feel safe.

Familiar footsteps shuffled outside his door and he relaxed into the pillow, his hand releasing its grip on his Sais. His life was different now but he still found comfort sleeping with a weapon close by.

He waited for Darren to turn the knob but it never came. Instead he heard footsteps walking away and the open and close of a different door.

Chris lay in silence waiting for any indication that Darren was planning to come back. The green light coming from his electronic clock signaled it was past three am.

He watched as minutes ticked past and when it was obvious that he had been stood up, Chris resigned himself to sleeping alone. He rolled to his side so that he was facing away from where Darren always slept.

Nights like these were far and few in between. Farther and fewer as the months had gone by but Chris had learned to accept them as they come. Darren was always back the following night.

Chris settled into his pillows quickly slipping into a dream. He dreamt of Darren as Chuck had once described him, bouncing with every step, joy emanating from his pores like he had swallowed the sun whole.

He had met Darren the friend, Darren the mentor, Darren the lover but Darren uncomplicatedly happy was one version Chris had never met.

\----------

Across the hall, lights from outside his window danced across the walls, painting pictures that if anyone looked too closely resembled the ghosts of Darren’s past.

He shut his eyes against them but Darren didn’t dream.

He didn’t sleep at all.

\----------

Waking up to with the schedules they kept usually meant most of the hotel’s inhabitants woke up well after noon. There was never a common time for everyone but Chris had his friends’ wake up routines down pat.

Darren woke up at different hours either brimming with energy or downright surly, there was no in between.

Joey staggered downstairs at around 1 p.m., incoherent until he had a cup of coffee. Lauren followed a couple of minutes after him. She required at least two cups.

Walker was a wild card but Chris could always count on him to be in his boxers sans shirt.

Julia was the earliest riser but she still didn’t beat Chuck. He woke up at eight o’clock no matter how late they went to bed.

It was Chuck that Chris sought out that morning. He had slept fitfully all night and at some point he had given up and started poring over the books Oz had given him. There was nothing about the Scrolls of Kosundi but Chris remembered Chuck wanting to know more about beings with the same marks as he did. It was by sheer luck that Chris had started reading about the old Oracles.

Similar to The Conduit they were beings that functioned as the voices of the Powers that Be. According to lore only warriors who were pure of heart were allowed in their court which meant that not many people knew what they looked like but one account described them as “bathe in gold with marks of blue”.

Chris was far from being “bathed in gold”, or a powerful all-knowing being, but the similar marks might mean something.

He stepped out of the elevator, heavy book in hand, and would have walked straight into Chuck’s office if not for the heated voices coming from inside. It was unusual to find anyone awake at that hour. Let alone several someones.

“Look, I might act like an idiot but I’m not actually stupid.”

Joey's agitated voice piqued Chris' curiosity. He chastised himself for making a habit of eavesdropping even as he walked closer, his footsteps light, stopping right outside the open door out of anyone’s eye line.

“Medium height light brown hair, possibly dark blonde. Blue eyes. She was weird," Joey continued, "and not in a pretentious Art School sort of way. Strange."

“She must be if she was talking to you,” Lauren's voice said in what seemed like a feeble attempt at a joke.

“Supernatural strange. I'm 80% sure of it. It was an innocent question but the way that she acted - it was like she recognized Chris.”

Joey’s words ran a chill up Chris’ spine, the book in his hand slipping against his suddenly sweaty palms.

Memories of a hundred different cities flashed in front of his eyes.

A duffel bag was still stashed under his bed. Clothes, stakes, his Sais, a couple hundred dollar bills. It would tide him over until his next stop.

“We can’t take any chances,” Chuck said. “Joey, you’re on bar duty for the time being. No confrontations. We can't risk it with all the people in The Harbor. All eyes on Chris. He stays in the hotel.”

“Yeah,” Chris wasn’t as much surprised to hear Darren’s voice as he was at the anger it contained.  “Wouldn’t want to fail the mission right, Chuck? Wouldn’t want him to run away and disappoint the Powers that Be. Fuck everyone else.”

Stung, Chris took a step back. He didn’t know what the fuck he did to Darren but it was so easy to believe that was all he was to them. Another mission. Someone they were tasked to babysit. It hurt enough that Chris considered the idea of leaving without telling them but Chuck’s next words stopped him.

“Chris is family,” he snapped at Darren, “If you want to be an asshole do it on your own time.”

“Do you remember anything else?” Laurel asked, trying to diffuse the tension in the room.

“It wouldn’t help,” Chris finally spoke up, revealing himself.

All heads turned to him except for Darren who found the tip of his stake digging in to Chuck’s desk more interesting than looking Chris in the eye. The whole gang was complete Chris noticed. Even Oz had been called in. It burned Chris to know they had been talking about him all this time. He should have been a part of the discussion as much as anyone in the room.

“I wouldn’t know what they looked like even if they were standing right in front of me,” Chris continued. “I always left when they got too close. Maybe I should-”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Chuck told him firmly, not willing to entertain the thought. “We’ll take care of this. Oz?”

“I'll make some calls," Oz said standing up.

Still pissed at being left out, Chris was going to object but logically Oz was the best person to go digging. Chris allowed himself to give Oz a small smile which quickly turned into a frown when he saw Darren stand up too.

“Where are you going?” Chuck asked, noticing the same thing.

“Out,” was the curt reply. He followed Oz out the door not even sparing Chris a glance.

Hurt and anger overpowered his fear. It was stupid of him to be affected when the people chasing after him were back but Chris found that when it came to Darren stupid was a default setting for him. He wasn’t expecting much, not after last night, but he hadn’t expected Darren to completely ignore him.

It was useless to be angry. There was no way he going to get answers from Darren but there was one Criss brother that might be willing to.

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on or should I go and find out for myself too?” Chris asked, the mix of emotions coming together to snap at his friends.

Joey looked at Chuck for permission before filling Chris in. The whole exchange would have seemed innocuous to anyone else but Chris trusted Joey’s instincts. It had saved his life more times than he could count.

“We’ll see what Oz will come up with but in the meantime I need you to stay inside at all times please,” Chuck told him. It was phrased as a request but they both knew it was an order. They would be risking too much given the number of people who lived in the hotel.

Chris nodded, hugging the book he was holding to his chest. It was only then that he remembered why he was looking for Chuck in the first place.

“I found something,” he said laying the book down on the desk and opening it to the page he bookmarked. “Not about my markings but beings with the same ones.”

Chuck read through the passage, his displeasure showing at how little information it contained. “I have a couple of books around here about deities but most should be in the library. You can try to see if those mention The Oracles.”

“I’ll go with you,” Julia volunteered, followed by Joe saying, “I’m going back to sleep.”

Julia rolled her eyes at him but Chris laughed not at all surprised.

Joe clapped Chris on the shoulder. “Sorry, man I need my beauty sleep. My manly muscles are of better use with the slaying than research.”

“Don’t worry. Joey and I will help,” Lauren said her bright smile a stark contrast to the sudden drooping of Joey’s face.

“Should have made my exit quicker,” he mumbled, following Julia and Lauren out to the library.

Chris was grateful none of them took offense to his outburst. He turned to Chuck who seemed to know what was in Chris’ head.

“We’re all worried. Darren most of all.”

Chris nodded. It was a topic he wasn’t willing to delve into with anyone, let alone Chuck.

“I should go research.”

“You’re safe with us,” Chuck said.

All Chris could offer was a small smile, wishing that both of them could fully believe the promise behind those words.

\----------

Darren leaned against a bar stool, arms placed lazily against the bar. It was douchey and meant to draw attention. There were many seedy bars in New York but this one serviced a specific clientele. Both demon and human alike sat on tables, cards and chips laid out between glasses of whiskey and cigars.

A river of emotions was running in a steady stream just beneath the surface but his breath remained steady. There were too many supernatural elements around him who could hear a skittering heart beat from across the room. It didn’t stop him from wanting a drink and fast.

Darren motioned to the bartender, trusting that he was familiar with his order. A drink would help cool him down. He was pissed off at Chuck for being a good little soldier, irrationally annoyed at Joey for not having more information but most of all he was worried about Chris.

A pang of guilt shot through him when he remembered the hurt look on Chris’ face. It was selfish of him to not even stop and ask if Chris was okay but he couldn’t. Not when his anger at the Powers was boiling over and would have made him lash out at anybody, including Chris.

Loss was not a foreign element in Darren’s life, it was the goddamned reason they had fallen into the saving people business in the first place, but everyone had their limits. Losing Chris would be his.

“Aren’t you here a little early?” the demon asked handing Darren a glass full of amber liquid. “The sun’s still out.”

“I notice it hasn’t stopped them,” Darren said motioning to the full room.

“Left overs from last night. They have a pretty intense poker tournament going on. Two guesses why you weren’t invited,” he said with a chuckle.

Several eyes were on Darren, some more threatening than others, none of them willing to make the first move. He had developed a reputation and not one of them was dumb enough to start a fight.

“I’m hurt. You know how much I like to party. Kinda like you if what I’ve hearing is true,” Darren replied, teasing for information. The half-demon was known to be naturally talkative. No one trusted Mike with anything worth knowing but dig deep enough there was always gold to be found.

“Whatever you heard, you heard wrong. I like my peace and quiet. Although it’s hard to come by with all the noise they’re making at the old Waldorf. Enough to drive a sound-sensitive demon mad.”

“You know if anyone tried to sneak a peek?” Darren asked, not at all interested but needing to keep Mike talking. He sipped slowly from his glass, concealing the way his eyes carefully cased the patrons of the bar until they landed on a table at the back. He pretended not to notice the logo stamped on her arm, the glow in the dark ink still working in the dim light.

It was from The Harbor.

“Nah, whoever’s taken residence there has it locked down,” Mike said. “Got all the squatters spooked too.”

Darren nodded, setting his glass on the table. “Yeah? Tell me if you hear anything good. I’m going to go say hi to some friends.”

“Any fighting stays outside, Criss!” Mike called out. Darren gritted his teeth when the girl looked up at Mike’s voice then over at Darren recognition flashing in her eyes. She quickly stood up and headed for the backdoor but Darren was right behind her.

He ran to the intentionally darkened alleyway and spotted the open manhole. Darren slid down the ladder, catching up with her as she rounded a corner. It was absolute luck that she had taken a wrong turn and straight into a dead end. Smiling darkly, he charged at her putting all his weight into a tackle. He grunted as he slammed into her and crashed with her to the ground.

The punch he received was almost strong enough to break his jaw. Darren rolled with it, pulling out a stake as he went. He stood on the balls of his feet, circling her so that her back was to the wall.

Joey might not have been sure she was a vampire, but Darren was certain. Her face revealed her demon visage, fangs glinting even in the sparse light of the sewers.

“You’re never going to stop her.”

“Never say never,” Darren replied with a shrug. “Why don’t you tell me who exactly _she_ is and we can all make with the pleasantries.”

“Neither you or I deserve to be in My Lady’s presence. But when she finds out about your friend,” her laugh made Darren’s blood run cold. Chris. She was talking about Chris. “Oh, the things she will do to him will make humans and demon alike bow down in fear.”

Darren smirked, revealing nothing of his emotions. The vampire smiled at him knowingly, picking up the spike in his pulse. She knew she hit a nerve.

Taking it as a sign of weakness she launched herself at Darren, arm lashing out for a hit. Darren ducked, one hand grabbing the vampire’s wrist and twisting so he was to her side. His other hand pushed violently against her shoulder blade, forcing her arm into an unnatural angle.

It would have snapped anyone else’s arm but the demon was fucking strong. She snarled her other arm lashing back, hitting Darren on the temple and making him see black spots.

Pure instinct took over as Darren fought the dizziness and served punch after punch. She held her own but she was newly sired, cocky and no match for his years of experience.

His equilibrium regained, he grinned, twirling his stake around his fingers. “You should have watched a little more James Bond because then you’d know that monologuing is the last thing you want to do in these situations. Now I know two things.”

Darren spun, his leg kicking out and connecting with the vampire’s chin. She staggered, sewer water splashing as she fell against the wall. “One, you haven’t told her about Chris.” He charged before she could regain her balance landing a punch with his left hand before he raised the stake with his right. “Two, you’re nothing but a lackey. You’re useless to me.”

The stake sinking into the demon’s chest offered little satisfaction to Darren. He pocketed his stake and headed back to the manhole. He had taken care of any immediate threats but there was a bigger threat out there. And they needed to find out what before it found Chris.

\----------

Oz stared at the crude drawing of a man and a woman both of them covered in what could very well be hieroglyphics for all he knew. He sighed, rubbing his palm against tired eyes. It was all they had unearthed after days of research. He had never seen the writing before but he knew someone who might.

He picked up the phone, smiling when he heard a familiar voice over the line.

“Angel Investigations, we help the helpless.”

\-----------

_“Okay, say cheese!”_

_Lips stretched wide, smears of red over white teeth._

_“What’s the occasion?” the waiter asked his arm comfortably around Darren like they were old friends._

_“It’s my brother’s wedding anniversary and my girlfriend and I are having a baby,” Darren didn’t bother to explain she wasn’t quite his girlfriend. They were messy details meant for another time. Tonight was about celebration._

_“You guys are pretty lucky.”_

_“We really are.”_

_The waiter’s smile was so wide it was grotesque._

_“Too bad they’re all dead.”_

Darren woke up with a start hand automatically reaching out beside him for Chris only to grab air. His eyes focused on the blurry outline of the clock. He had been asleep less than an hour.

He grimaced when he realized his sheets were sweat soaked from the nightmare. No use trying to go back to sleep now. Darren grabbed a pair of jogging pants off the floor and pulled them on, not entirely sure if they had been there for a week or a month.

The door behind him clicked shut and the flash of a camera surfaced from his memory so vivid he had to blink twice to get his eyes to adjust. When they did he realized his feet had moved on their own accord towards Chris’ door.

It had been a week since he had last talked to Chris. He had updated Chuck about the vampire but had let him tell everyone else. As expected Chuck had called him out on his bullshit.

“Coward,” his brother had accused, obviously exhausted and taking out his frustration on Darren.

If it had been anyone else Darren would have clocked him.

“Mind your own business,” he had spat instead.

Chuck hadn’t of course because when had either of them done what they were told. He rounded on Darren, voice rising. “The guy has someone, some _thing_ after him and the one person who could give him comfort is being a grade A asshole.”

“I said mind your own business, Chuck.” Darren had yelled back. He breathed heavily, hands clenched into fists. “You have no idea what it feels like knowing I could wake up tomorrow and he’d be gone. Either because he ran or because of your Assholes That Be have chosen that day to use him as a pawn in their game.”

“We can’t control what happens.”

“We can’t,” Darren said, grabbing an open book on Chuck’s desk and throwing it on the coffee table between them. _‘The Powers That Be’_ was written on the top in bold, handwritten calligraphy. “But they can right? They control everything and they’re controlling us too. Using us. Oz warned us about trusting them.”

“They’re the only ones who have the answer.”

“What answers are you looking for? Why they died and we didn’t?” Chuck didn’t answer but Darren knew he hit a nerve. He should have backed down but he was proving to be a lot more of an asshole than either of them realized.

“You want to know why I’m still alive?” Darren asked, refusing to acknowledge the pain inside him that was mirrored in his brother’s eyes. “The fucking vamp was full.” He laughed, humorless and full of heartache. “That was why he wasn't able to drain me. It's the only reason I'm still alive. And you were lucky Oz was passing by and got that vamp before he broke your neck. She was carrying my baby and you lost the love of your life and we survived because we were lucky. That’s all. What kind of fucked up cosmic joke is that?”

"You’re right,” Chuck told him, his voice trembling with tears Darren hadn’t seen him shed in years. “We’re lucky. We both lost people. We do what we can. And right now you don’t realize how lucky you are you found someone again. I would give anything to have her back and here you are throwing away everything because you’re scared.”

Those were Chuck’s last words to him before walking out on Darren. They had talked after that but sparsely, pure business. Darren couldn’t blame him.

Darren descended the stairs to the basement. He breathed in, relishing in the familiarity of the training room. He pulled off his shirt and dropped it unceremoniously on the padded floor. No one else was there to tell him off. It was just him and his punching bag.

The first punch landed squarely, the force of it vibrating up his arm. A lifetime ago he would have cared about the damage to his hand but it was a long time since he’d picked up a guitar. An even longer time since he’d had the urge to sing.

Songs only served to haunt his dreams.

He had almost picked up a mic once. An impromptu karaoke session eons ago where Chris had refused to go on stage. Darren had wanted to hear Chris sing having only heard him through the walls of the bathroom. There was promise in his voice that drew Darren in, stirring inside him a desire for music that had long been dormant, but he had waited too long and the moment had gone by too quickly.

The next punch landed even harder than the others.

Punch after punch echoed in the enclosed space, fueled by anger and a painful past, chasing away his demons until his muscles ached as much as his heart.

\----------

Chris pushed his glasses up his nose, trying not to trip on anything as he read through the passage as he made his way to Chuck’s office.

Oz’s contacts had told them what happened to the previous Oracles. They were gone. Murdered by a demon. It had scared Chris enough that he had considered running again. He didn’t know that higher beings could die let alone that demons that powerful existed. Demons that could kill Oracles were an entirely different nightmare to the ones he already had.

Chris walked into the office, his eyes on the lookout for the book he needed for cross referencing. He stopped short when he noticed a different Criss at the desk. Darren didn't seem to notice there was another person in the room. He was engrossed in an old dusty book that Chris guessed was part of Oz's really old books collection.

“I was starting to wonder if you’d died and everyone forgot to tell me,” Chris said by way of greeting, his voice a mix of pissed and annoyed with a dash of ‘what the fuck is your problem?”

A good couple of weeks had passed since Darren had looked him in the eye let alone spoken to him. Chris had come to expect the mood shifts but it wasn’t always easy navigating Darren’s sea of horrors. The two of them were yin and yang. Chris had his past tucked away in little boxes properly labeled and hidden in dark corners, Darren’s was held at bay just beneath the surface. It waxed and waned with the moon, eerily calm before surging like a tempest.

“Which pile of emotional baggage did I accidentally trip on this time? It would be nice if you told me before you started acting like I had the plague, like I didn’t deserve to be on this team. I don’t need a flying banner in the sky but a heads up would be fucking nice.”

Chris would have continued his verbal assault but one look at Darren’s face and Chris felt like he had kicked a puppy. Darren was exhausted. Bloodshot eyes highlighted the dark circles underneath them.

“What is with you Criss boys and your death wishes?” Chris muttered under his breath. He moved towards Chuck’s chair and swiveled it around roughly so that Darren faced him. Just because Darren looked pathetic did not mean he was forgiven.

“I don’t care what you’re doing right now. Get up.”

“Chris, I -”

“Get up,” he ordered, hands on hips.

Darren obeyed begrudgingly, eyebrows scrunching together as if summoning the energy to be pissed off. “What?”

Chris ignored it and took Darren’s hand in his, tugging him to the couch.

“You are going to get a little shut eye,” he declared, pulling Darren behind him and onto the couch. He scooched over to one end and placed a pillow on his lap. Darren tried to resist but Chris was insistent, gently pulling him down until his head was lying on the pillow.

“Thirty minutes,” Darren conceded.

“Two hours. Minimum.”

Darren made a soft noise of token protest but his eyes were already closed, his breathing evening out quickly.

Chris sighed, running his hands through Darren’s hair over his earlobe and down his neck. If he listened closely enough he could swear Darren was purring. It was exactly the kind of intimate knowledge that was reserved for boyfriends not fuck buddies or whatever it was he and Darren were.

Sighing, he groped for the book lying on the side table. Demons and Deities. The front cover showed a creature devouring a man’s intestines. Gross. But it would have to do.

\---------

Darren woke up slowly, blinking to get the world into focus. He remembered falling asleep in Chuck’s couch but he didn’t remember going up to Chris’ room or, he looked down at his shirtless chest, taking off his clothes.

He wondered if another one of life’s cruel jokes was that he sex sleepwalked. Sleepsexed? Sexslept? Whatever it was he was not down with it. He preferred to be fully alert if he was having any kind of sex. Especially the kind that included Chris.

Darren sighed, burying his head into the pillow and noticing for the first time that it was slightly damp. His hand groped towards his head and he groaned when he realized his curls were still wet. Somehow he had also managed to take a shower while he was asleep without drying it properly. He would be lucky if he could tame the frizz without needing to wet down it again.

“You’d think he’d be a bit more appreciative considering it’s my pillow he ruined.” Chris stood by the shower, towel low on his hips, the steam from the shower billowing around him. Darren would have commented on how he resembled a cover for a cheesy romantic novel but the glare he was giving Darren meant he was still pissed and he had every right to be.

“Chris, I don’t - “

He raised a hand stopping Darren mid-sentence. Grabbing one of his long-sleeved button downs from a drawer, he pulled it on with more force than necessarily. “Look, I’m sure you had your reasons but I’m not your emotional yoyo.”

“I know -”

Chris threw him a look that clearly said ‘shut up’. It would have been a lot more intimidating if he wasn’t pulling on boxers.

He straightened, stalking back into the bathroom and hanging his towel haphazardly over a towel rack.

Darren considered going after him but Chris was back after a second, eyes still blazing. “If you have a problem with me you should tell me instead of pretending I don’t exist. You want this to end, fine, but I thought I at least deserved a break-up text at the least.”

The speech was glib but Darren didn’t miss the hurt that flashed in Chris’ eyes. He was used to being a tiny guy but he had never felt as small as he did at that moment.

“Come here?” Darren asked, the fight he been putting up the past few weeks leaving his body.

Chris sat on the side of the bed nearest Darren. Cautious but unafraid. Chris trusted him. It was a constant no matter how much he acted like a dick. Darren was both awed and afraid of that fact.

Darren laid his hand on the bed, waiting for Chris to slip a hand into his before running his thumb slowly over the bumps of Chris' fingers.

He was selfish, wanting to be in Chris’ room, to be with Chris when there was little Darren could offer him. All that lived in Darren were broken dreams and anger at a world he didn’t understand. There was nothing there that Chris could possibly want. If Darren let him in he would see exactly that.

"I don't have a problem with you," Darren said, admitting at least that.

"Well, what the hell is your problem then?"

He took it as a good sign that while anger and frustration was still evident in Chris' eyes he didn't remove his hand from Darren's.

"I'm an idiot."

“No shit.”

Darren tugged gently at Chris' hand, pulling him closer. “I’m sorry."

“You’re going to have to do better than that.”

"I promise if I ever need time to brood. I will tell you instead of hiding from you. And that I owe you an epic 'I'm Sorry' blow job that you can claim anytime anywhere."

It was as much as of an olive branch that Darren could offer. An opportunity to go back to the way things were. It was up to Chris if we would accept it or not. If he could still make do with what little Darren could give.

He held his breath as emotions warred in Chris’ eyes. A vice gripped his heart at the thought of Chris refusing his apology, refusing him. It would serve him right but the furious beast that lived inside Darren roared in the pain at the idea.

Finally, Chris gave him a half-smile. “You’re worse than the guys after me. At least they want me for my magic. You just want me for my body,” he joked. Not quite forgiveness but a start.

Heady with relief, Darren moved the hand that was stroking Chris’ fingers up to his cheek. “That’s not true.”

The sincerity in Darren’s voice startled them both but neither broke away, time stretching out between them.  His gaze flickered from Chris’ eyes to his mouth then back up to the brilliant blue that showed so much possibility that Darren had to close his eyes as he took a shuddering, steadying breath.

Darren ached with want but didn’t move. He didn’t take any of what Chris was offering in the clear blue of his eyes. There was nothing that Darren could give in return and he was selfish enough to want Chris but never enough to pull him in only for Darren to break him completely.

That first night, that first kiss was a moment of weakness in Darren's part. He had wanted Chris, fought against the rapidly changing dynamic of their relationship every step of the way but he had never meant to kiss him. It was Chris who had bridged that gap and afterward, when he was clinging to him breathless and needy there was no turning back. Darren had tumbled head over heels into Chris not even realizing where he was headed until he was mid-way into opening himself up again.

Darren still feared the day that Chris would say no. That he would finally come to his senses and realize that he deserved more than a broken shell like Darren.

If that day was to come, it wasn't that night. He felt the shift of the bed, a millisecond of fear that Chris would leave shooting inside him before turning into a wave of relief when Chris' slid his lips against Darren's, fluttering gently at first before pressing down for a real kiss.

Chris leaned against him and Darren took it as a cue to slip his hand into Chris' hair, deepening the kiss. The noise that escaped Chris, a beautiful blend of a whimper and a moan, pulled at the heat curling in Darren's belly.

He pulled Chris down on top of him, hands gripping the collar of his button down until his body was flush against Darren's. Another kiss, harder and deeper made Chris' moan, the sound vibrating against Darren's mouth, awakening parts of him that he had been trying to deny for weeks.

Fuck, he had missed Chris.

Darren wanted to kiss him everywhere, trace the marks on his skin with his tongue, erasing every painful memory and replacing them with nothing but Darren. He settled for the length of Chris’ neck, nipping and biting, sucking against the skin of his jaw hard enough that it left a pink mark against the white symbols that swirled almost artfully up his cheek.

His fingers caressed the mark gently as his lips found their way back to Chris’, kissing him until they were both panting for air, breathing heavy with want.

“Darren…” Warm hands, slid up Darren's sides, making him shiver as they traced up muscle and skin, fingers splaying against his chest causing delicious friction against his nipples. Gratitude that he was already sans shirt was quickly replaced by annoyance that Chris’ was still fully buttoned up.

He considered tearing them off but Chris saw the look in his eyes and warned, "Don't you dare."

Darren let out an exaggerated sigh then with a sudden twist of his legs, rolled them over so he was on top, legs on either side of Chris' hips.

Fingers slipped off button after button, his mouth following the trail of skin as it was revealed to him.

By the time Darren reached the last of the buttons Chris was arching against him gasping, the muscles under Darren’s mouth quivering. He licked down even slower, nipping at the skin and letting it slide against his tongue before kissing a path lower and lower.

His fingers reach the hem of Chris’ boxers, Darren smirked, relieved that Chris hadn’t had time to put on his jeans. He didn’t think he would have the patience to pull them off given how tight Chris’ jeans usually were. He was desperate for the taste of Chris against his tongue but at the same time he wanted to tease, wanted Chris to be writhing underneath him begging for Darren’s tongue on his cock.

They made quick work of Chris’ boxers, pulling them off and Darren tossing them across the room for added flair.

Chris rolled his eyes at him, “You’re getting those later.”

Darren shrugged, he didn’t care. The farther any sort of clothing was from Chris the better. He kissed the trail of hair that dusted the skin under Chris’ bellybutton, breathing in and surrounding himself with Chris’ scent.

Above him, Chris groaned impatiently, burying his hand in Darren’s hair but keeping still. “Darren, please.”

He looked up at Chris, naked and waiting, wanting nothing but him. It made him shiver, his own dick hard and straining against his briefs. Darren dropped his gaze to Chris’ cock, fingers slowly teasing over his length, curling lightly against them but not tight enough to relieve any of the tension building inside Chris.

“Darren,” Chris groaned, rolling his hips upward, seeking the pressure he desperately needed.

He lowered his mouth, licking a delicate stripe up Chris’ length making him buck and whine.

“Chris, look at me.” Darren’s breath whispering against Chris’ skin making the muscles of his thighs shiver. “What do you want?”

It was almost a full second before Chris realized a question had been directed at him. It was the first time Darren had asked such as thing. The first time since their first time that he needed confirmation that Chris was okay, that Chris was his, that Chris wanted _him_.

The hand that was in Darren’s hair slid down to cup his cheek, Chris palm smooth against the rough stubble that had started to grow there.

“I want you,” Chris said, whether it meant more than what they were currently doing; neither of them cared to quantify. “I want you so much.”

His words quickly slipped into a whine as Darren lowered his head, breathing Chris’ name as his hot, open mouth pressed against the base of Chris’ cock. He stayed there enjoying the taste and his scent before his lips slid to the juncture of Chris’ thigh and his crotch. Darren bit into the skin, his tongue pushing and sucking in the hope that it would leave a mark that Chris would feel until the morning.

“Darren, please…” Chris whined. Darren raised his head, looking at the stormy blue of Chris’ eyes, dark with desire. “Need… you…” he gasped, arching up, wanton and unabashed.

Fuck. Darren dropped his hips to the bed, chasing for friction against his cock. He wasn’t going to last if Chris continued to talk like that.

He let his mouth wrap around the head of Chris’ cock. Darren shivered, delighted at the moans coming from above him. From the corner of his eye he could see Chris’ knuckles white against the sheet, gripping it to keep himself from fucking into Darren’s mouth.

Chris was everywhere, surrounding every one of his senses and still Darren couldn’t get enough. He swirled his tongue around the slit, desperate for every taste. One hand snaked into Darren’s hair and tugged hard. His moan vibrated around Chris’ shaft which Chris answered with a choked off sound of his own.

Darren felt like his skin was on fire, he was on the verge of coming just having Chris in his mouth but he wanted more. He wanted Chris’ spilling against his tongue, screaming Darren’s name, blunt nails scratching against his skin.

He kept sucking at the tip, one arm over Chris’ hip and the other underneath, caressing his ass, Darren waited until Chris was used to the rhythm before he took a deep breath through his nose and his mouth sank all the way down, swallowing so that Chris whined in surprise before moaning, Darren’s name loud enough it echoed in the room. Darren slid back, sucking on the tip before doing the same thing again and again.

“Oh God, Darren. Fuck, fuck. Darren, please,” Chris babbled as Darren kept working his mouth over him.

Suddenly Chris was coming. Darren didn’t stop, his lips tight and hot, sucking Chris through his orgasm, his tongue flicking against the head of slit, swallowing every last bit of come.

He watched Chris come down, blinking against the rush of blood in his head. It took him a moment to recover but then Chris was pulling Darren up, lips smashing against his as his hand fumbling inside his boxers and around Darren’s dick.

Darren pushed against Chris’ hand, raising his head with a groan before burying himself in Chris neck, lips finding purchase there and sucking hard. A couple of strokes were all it took before Darren was coming also, Chris’ arm tight around him as Darren moaned into his neck.

He rested his head against Chris’ chest, fingers tracing the faint white lines now dotted with pinks and reds from Darren’s kisses. The rise and fall of Chris’ chest started to even out and Darren smiled to himself, smug. He knew he did a particularly good job when Chris fell asleep immediately after.

He allowed himself to enjoy the quiet, his breath evening out to match Chris’. Darren was content even as conflict rumbled inside him like an impending storm. He swallowed, fighting the urge to panic. Chris in his arms was always too much and never enough.

Wanting was easy for Darren. His too bruised heart still hadn’t learned, hadn’t realized that love was simply not in the cards for a tainted heart like his. He _wanted_ Chris, wanted to take everything that he was willing to give, wanted to lose himself in a promise seal with a brush of skin on skin, lips on lips.

He pressed his lips against Chris’ chest in a soft kiss. It would be easy to let his resolve break but he wasn’t that kind of asshole. There was nothing he could offer Chris. Nothing was left inside of him to give.

Despite all of Darren’s well thought out reservations, it didn’t change the fact that he was still in Chris’ bed, wrapped around Chris like it was the simplest thing in the world.

He wondered if maybe he was exactly that kind of asshole and he hated himself for it.

\---------

Chris was going stir crazy. He was used to running. He was used to being busy, to moving from one location to another. Hell, he had even gotten used to the adrenaline brought about by a fight but what he had forgotten was how time seemed to slow down when there nothing to do but wait. He wasn’t used to waiting to see if whatever it was that was hunting him would finally catch up.

And it had been weeks. _Weeks_.

“It’s a surveillance detail. I’m going to be in Oz’s van and no one will see me,” Chris had promised when he raised the idea to Chuck. “I will stay inside. I will not move from my seat. Chuck, you know I would never put any of you in danger.”

“Isn’t there some sort of patience mantra you can teach him?” Chuck asked Oz. He was oddly chipper having had his cast removed that morning.

“No,” Chris answered for Oz. He raised his hand palm up. Chris concentrated on his breathing, smiling proudly when the steady glow of his marks intensified, forming a bright ball in the middle of his palm. “I’ve been training with him so much I’m can do this. Soon enough I’m going to be able to throw them at things and I really think you’d want my sanity intact once that happens.”

Chuck laughed. “What do you think, Yoda?”

Oz had raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his face. It didn’t seem like a resounding vote for Chris’ plea but it was enough to convince their almighty leader.

“Inside the van at all times,” Chuck had repeated, shaking his head at the two of them. “And this stays between the three of us until we know more.”

At the time Chris would have hugged Chuck if he was the hugging type. He honestly thought it would cure him of his cabin fever but instead it was their fifth night on stake out and Chris wasn’t just driving himself crazy, he was probably driving Oz crazy too.

He raised the binoculars, scoping out what seemed to be an empty warehouse. “Are you sure this is the place?” Chris asked for what seemed like the tenth time that night. He was grateful the werewolf had a streak of patience a mile wide. Also that he had a strict No Biting People policy.

“Yes, I’m sure,” was all he got as an answer. Same one he had gotten during the last ten times he asked. Oz wasn’t even using his binoculars. He had his window cracked open and he would stop and sniff at times. It made sense that enhanced smell was a power werewolves would have.

As cool as it was to watch Oz super sniff bad guys, impatience was seeping into Chris’ skin and settling like an itch he wanted to scratch. It didn’t help that he had hoped to catch Darren before he left for patrol. Things between them had gone back to normal, or at least what passed as normal between them. Normal also meant sex and as much as Chris had missed Darren himself he has also missed sex with Darren very, very much.

“You need to stop thinking about Darren having sex,” Oz said wrinkling his nose.

Chris blushed, gaping at Oz and inching away as if that would help. “That’s intrusive. And gross.”

“It really is,” he said more to himself than to Chris. He turned back to the window. “Do you mind though? There’s a reason I try to stay out of your floor.”

Flustered and beyond embarrassed Chris forced himself to think of anything but sex with Darren. He knew things between them weren’t really a secret but it was different knowing one of their friends avoided them because they were having too much sex.

Too much sex was far better than the radio silence he had received from Darren. He still couldn’t understand what exactly had prompted the Berlin Wall between them but he respected Darren’s boundaries. Not that stopping himself from choking Darren in frustration was easy.

Oz seemed to sense his troubled thoughts. He turned to face Chris, leaning back against the door. Chris wondered briefly if werewolves could read minds too.

”Everything copacetic?” Oz asked.

“More like enigmatic.”

Oz nodded as if that one word held all the explanation he needed. “Darren’s a layered guy.”

“You have such a way with words,” Chris said with a good natured eyeroll. “Do you ever think about becoming a writer?”

Oz laughed. “I get that a lot.”

“Care to expound then?” Chris realized that while he had spent a lot of time with Oz in the past, he had never actually spent any of it talking. Their meditation sessions usually involved a lot more silence and a lot more ‘ommm’-ing.

“I’ve known a lot of people who’ve taken up this kind of life,” Oz said his voice soft but oddly loud inside the van. “Most of them were damaged from the start but Darren... I met him once before that night. It was a jam session at one of our old haunts. He was a lot different. The type of person you wish would never be touched by darkness.”

A wistful look came over Oz’s face as if he was remembering someone from his own past. Chris’ own heart ached for Darren and the person he used to be.

“You know what happened after that,” Oz continued. “I think he would have taken it better if it was a random mugging but with vampires there was no way to get justice. You couldn't run to the police and have them locked away.

Chris nodded. He knew the story. Had seen Darren’s face crack at its retelling. Had seen Chuck’s eyes lose its light at any mention of his late wife.

It was one thing to be born into this life but to have been thrust into it by fate was another thing. It seemed crueler somehow.

Oz stared out the window, his face a mask. “I think he started as way to fight his own demons. Get vengeance. It was never a mission for him the way it’s become for Chuck. It was just his way of dealing.”

The two of them were quiet for a moment. Chris wondered if Oz ever felt like life dealt him a bad hand. His turning had been an accident. Bitten by his little cousin back in high school. Oz hadn’t even known he was a werewolf until he woke up in the woods after a full moon.

None of Chris’ friends were born into the life like Chris was, they were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Do you remember in high school when everyone wanted to be special?” Chris asked breaking the silence. “All I ever wanted was to stop being a freak.”

Oz nodded a fond smile on his face. “I knew a girl like that in high school. I guess we all want an exciting life until we get it. Then all we want is normal back.”

“My life has been about running for so long I’m not even sure if I know what normal is anymore.”

“Normal is overrated,” Oz said, ironically or not, Chris wasn’t sure.

Given the chance they would want the cookie-cutter life, married in the suburbs with 2.5 kids. Or would they still somehow find themselves in the same life? Fighting the good fight?

Chris didn’t know and he knew if he asked Oz wouldn’t know the answer either. Their life was what it was, for good or for bad.

“That girl you knew in high school, what happened to her?”

“She died a couple of times.”

Chris couldn’t help his shocked laugh. “What?”

“Her friends brought her back. She had friends and that made all the difference,” Oz smiled at Chris with so much sincerity it drew a smile from Chris too. “I’m glad that you stayed when Darren found you.”

“Me too.”

Oz suddenly sat up, turning his head towards the open window. “And I think we finally found what we were waiting for.”

Chris raised his binoculars. Nothing moved for a few seconds. He was about to tell Oz he might have gotten it wrong when a truck drove into view and straight for the warehouse.

It backed into the loading dock and four of five vampires got out from the back preparing to roll out a crate that looked like it could hold a coffin.

“I thought we were looking for a scroll not a sarcophagus,” Chris asked his voice a whisper even though they were a good distance away.

“Older more important scrolls used to be kept in chests. Sometimes their guardians are buried with it.”

“Great, we’ll be fighting vampires and zombies.”

Oz handed him the camera and the long lens they had brought along. “No one’s fighting anything yet. First surveillance. After that we map out our next plan.”

\----------

Darren walked into the hotel lobby ready to patrol. He expected a couple of stragglers back from the first shift but he didn’t expect most of the core group to be back and in the library including Chris.

“What’s going on?” he asked. On the wall was a video projection of a warehouse, to the side, almost hidden behind some bushes were what Darren assumed were vampires. They were rolling a large crate from the back of the truck and into the bay doors.

Chuck looked from the video to Darren. “Good. You’re here. Chris said you were on patrol.”

“I thought you were,” Chris said confused.

Darren dismissed the unspoken question by repeating his own. “What’s going on?” The truth was he had been waiting for Chris to get back but he wasn’t about to admit that in a room full of people.

“Oz and Chris found the Scrolls of Kosundi. We can go in the night after tomorrow. The sooner the better,” Chuck declared like everything had been settled and Darren had no say in the matter. Like fuck it was.

Agitation rose inside him and he had to throttle back to keep from exploding at Chuck. It wasn’t his fault that Darren was getting used to the routine of their lives only to be thrust into the shithole that was the Power’s mission.

“How do we know this isn’t going to be different than the last time,” Darren demanded, not quite a yell but loud enough that everyone turned to look at him. “How do you know one of us isn’t going to die this time? Remember that? You and Chris broke appendages and Lauren was in the hospital for a week.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lauren flinch. It was insensitive and almost cruel but someone had to talk sense into Chuck.

“We’re better suited for this. We’ve had scouts planted in the location since Monday. Chris has been one of them.”

Darren whirled around at Chris, betrayal evident on his face.

The confusion look he received made it clear to Darren that Chris has no idea why he was upset. Why would he? He was so fucking emotionally constipated even Chris thought he was going insane.

“The warehouse was empty until tonight,” Chris reported to the room, professional, although he was still shooting Darren confused glances. “It wasn’t a lair and it wasn’t just vamps.” He pushed a button on the laptop, skipping until he reached somewhere near the thirty minute mark. “After they got the crate inside these guys arrived.”

Projected on the wall were beings in cloaks. The video didn’t provide audio of what they were chanting but after a few minutes red light crisscrossed around the building like magical infrared beams.

“Mages?” Joey asked.

“Monks,” Oz corrected. “They put a protection spell on the building. Powerful but breakable. He pointed to a symbol on the wall. “That’s the seal. We break it with our own spell and we’re in.”

“You ready for this?” Chuck asked Lauren.

She looked terrified and Darren felt like an even bigger ass scaring her but Joey gripped her hand and Lauren nodded. “Got to earn my ‘Don’t Fall into a Coma after a Big Spell Wicca badge sometime.”

Oz tapped a few keys and the video turned into a blueprint. “We lucked out. The city owns the land so they had the blueprints on file. Hacking into their system was easy enough. There isn’t much by way of interior decoration but it’s still a maze of rooms. If we can cast a secondary spell as soon as the barrier is down that will lead us to the most powerful magic source it’ll be like following bread crumbs.”

“You know she can’t handle all of that magic at once,” Joey objected. “It’s too risky.”

Darren resisted the urge to nod comically, willing to grab at anything to stop the wheels being put into motion. He wasn't ready. Not for another mission that meant he could lose Chris. He had buried his head in the sand after their last trail had gone cold pretending that the danger that lurked in the night was nothing more than the usual. Nothing that increased the chance of another loss, another heartbreak.

It seemed though that everyone else was.

“Yes,” Chuck agreed. “That’s why she’ll need you with her. You’ll stay outside of the perimeter at all times. If anything goes wrong you end the spell.”

Joey looked at Lauren worried but ready to back her up whatever her choice. He only nodded in agreement when she gave him a determined nod back.

“Everyone else will stay outside the warehouse. Walker and Julia, you take a team each and lead the attack on that front. Draw them out, act as a diversion. Darren and I will slip inside. Find the scroll and get out. Oz and Chris will be manning the vans.”

The assignments was the one piece of information that Darren welcomed but his relief at having Chris out of the line of fire was short lived.

“Like hell I am,” Chris said hotly, “I’m with Joe and Julie. And this time I’m not running. You know what I can do.”

“To vampires,” Darren interjected, the words coming out sharper than he intended. “You can dust vamps but did you notice those demons. You don’t know if your bug zapper bit works on them.”

Chris stared him down, his blue eyes hurt at Darren’s lack of trust in him. “Then I fight but I’m not running away again.”

“You’re a liability. I think it would be better for everyone if you out of the way.”

“Then I’m lucky that it’s not up to you, is it?”

“Darren,” Chuck interrupted the squabble. It was clear that he didn’t appreciate his brother’s outburst in the middle of his meeting. “It’s Chris’ choice if he stays or goes.”

Chris stared at him, unyielding. “And I’m going.”

Darren resisted the urge to tie Chris up and lock him in his suite until the whole thing was done. Not that it would help. Chris would chew his way out because he was that goddamned stubborn.

"That's great," Darren growled. He knew he was acting like a brat but there was little he could do to control the increasing tension inside him. “You all seem to have this figured out why don’t you go ahead and plan this without me. I’ll be back when it’s time to head out.”

\-----------

It wasn’t patrolling that Darren did. It was hunting.

Darren staked nine vampires that night. By the last one his bones and muscles ached with every step he took. He knew looking for another one would be stupid.

He did it anyway.

\----------

Barest hints of sunlight had started pouring in to the lobby, welcoming the dawn. Chris hadn’t been able to get any sleep. Nerves for the upcoming mission and anger from his argument with Darren had kept him up until he found himself in the empty training floor.

Chris picked up the old staff he used during his very first session and set his foot squarely on the mattress. He held the weight against his palms, fingers wrapping around them like saying hello to an old friend.

On half-speed he went through his routine, muscle memory taking over.

It was a long time since he’d picked up a staff. Like everyone else he had learned a basic understanding of each weapon but eventually he chose one that best fit him. His Sais was a natural pick. Light but deadly. Chris could use them for both hand to hand combat and long range, having learned to throw them like ninja stars.

The staff had been his training weapon while his arm was healing but even though his arm was healed and he could easily handle his Sais, it was the grounding weight of the staff that he sought to calm his rage.

Chris tapped the ground with the staff and breathed deeply before going into the second part of his routine. He twirled moving the weapon from one hand to the other, gaining speed as he went along. It was pure reflex that kept him from striking Darren when he suddenly stepped in Chris’ path.

His own staff in hand, he pulled off his shirt before facing Chris. “Ready for a sparring partner?”

Chris narrowed his eyes at Darren. He was acting as if everything was normal between them and it served to fuel Chris’ anger even more. It thrummed beneath Chris’ skin, hot and alive. Darren had no right to act like he was less of a fighter than any of their friends. He trained as hard as each of them. More if you counted the hours he spent working on his powers with Oz.

Determined to prove his worth, Chris gripped his staff, bowing quickly before moving into a fighting stance.

They started off slow, circling each other in an almost dance, hitting lightly rather than all-out sparring. It was a routine they were both familiar with. Years of training together meant Chris knew each of Darren’s tells.

He watched Darren’s right hand for that telltale twitch before ducking so that the staff meant for his head flew over it. The angle allowed him to quickly swipe his staff against Darren’s feet barely catching them as Darren jumped in the air, pivoting backward into a defensive stance.

“Knew you were going to do that,” he said with a smirk.

Unfortunately knowing Darren’s tells also meant Darren knew each of Chris’.

If the attitude meant to annoy Chris it was definitely working. He charged at Darren, the sharp sound of wood against wood filling the room. It was satisfying to see that Darren hadn’t expected the onslaught. It took him a second before he regained his footing and he was hitting back as hard as Chris was doling it out.

He swung again, the staff connecting against Darren's arm this time. It wasn't hard enough to injure but hard enough that Darren loosened his grip on his weapon.

Chris took the opportunity to snag his staff against Darren's, pulling it up and away towards the other side of the room.

Raising an eyebrow, smug at his obvious win, Chris bowed. A gloat more than a sign of respect. It was why he didn't see the gleam in Darren's eye before he charged at Chris, rolling them both against the mat until Darren was on top pinning him to the ground.

“Fucking hell,” Chris cursed, it was all he could say with his breath knocked out. He breathed in Darren's bare chest on top of him as solid as the floor against his back. There was more than anger between them now. Heat licked its way up Chris' stomach as he watched Darren's eyes travel from Chris' eyes down to his lips.

Arching upward, he closed his eyes a millisecond before Darren's lips were on his, hard and demanding, tongue sliding against Chris' lips until he opened, welcoming him with a wet moan.

Chris could feel everything all at once and nothing at all. Darren overwhelmed his senses, as his hands traveled up Chris' stomach, pulling his shirt up and releasing him from the kiss just long enough to pull it over his head.

The cold air barely hit his skin before Darren's lips were quickly back over his delivering a bruising kiss that left Chris breathless. He gasped when he felt Darren's hand twist in his hair, pulling his head back to reveal his neck.

Chris shuddered as Darren found the spot where his neck met his shoulder, sucking and licking until Chris was bucking up against him, wanting to more than the feel more than cloth rubbing against his cock.

His racing heart leapt against his chest as Darren lifted himself on one arm, snaking a hand between them until it lay just above the garter of Chris' pants. He cried out when Darren lowered his head, tongue finding his nipple as his hand groped lower, finding Chris hard and arching towards him.

"Fuck, Chris," Darren mumbled against his chest, his fingers were moving slowly, waiting until he knew Chris was okay. Always fucking asking for permission when he knew he could keep taking and Chris would gladly give him everything, body, heart and soul. Chris grabbed Darren's hand wrapping it around his cock, both of them hissing at the sudden contact.

Chris’ back ached against the cushioned floor but he barely noticed. Nothing mattered but Darren on top of him, sweat-slicked and whining as Chris thrust against the tight heat of his hand. He was heady with need, but in between breaths and gasps Chris felt more than saw the weight of Darren's eyes on him.

He forced himself to focus, fought against the cloud of desire and looked into Darren's eyes. If he allowed himself, Chris could almost pretend that it was love that shone in the hazel orbs that he fought so hard to understand.

“I’m not going to lose you,” Darren growled low before his mouth descended on Chris’ once more. It was a promise or a plea. Chris couldn’t tell all he knew was Darren’s mouth, open and wet, tongue licking into his mouth as he felt his cock swell against Darren’s hand.

He thrust his hips up, shuddering as he tipped over the edge. “Darren, fuck,” he moaned, fingernails digging against Darren’s back pulling him closer as Chris surrendered himself into everything he wanted but knew he could never have.

An hour later they were back in his room, Darren naked and sound asleep against Chris. He pushed a stray lock of curly hair off Darren’s forehead. Asleep he seemed almost peaceful.

_I’m not going to lose you._

The words echoed in Chris’ chest, bittersweet. Darren hadn’t said ‘I’m not going to lose you too’ and for that Chris was grateful. He understood Darren’s pain, he had demons of his own but fuck if he was going to compete with the ghosts of Darren’s past.

Outside his window, the sun was still shining brightly covering the world with a pretense of joy.

Chris knew better than to hope, but with the scroll almost at arm’s length he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe it would herald a change in their lives.

One that allowed for happy endings.

\----------

“I feel like someone should have made a speech,” Walker said, fixing an extra stake on his belt. Next to it was a crossbow and a long blade. “What do you say, Captain o’ Captain?”

“Shut up, look sharp, don’t die,” Chuck replied, his smile belying the seriousness of his words. “Good enough?”

Joe gave him a jaunty salute. “Not exactly the St. Crispin’s day speech but Cap’n Chuck’s will have to do.”

Around the room each of them were preparing their own weapons. Chris had two sets of Sais tucked into his belt. The first one was his regular ones. The second was a hybrid, wooden stakes fashioned over say handles. It was a gift he had received from Darren during his first Christmas with the group. Simultaneously one of the sweetest and weirdest presents he had ever received.

On the reception desk, Lauren was setting three wristwatches. “You have thirty minutes until the first spell wears off,” she said, handing Chuck and Darren the watches once she was done synchronizing them. “Get out of there before it ends because the wards they put up work both ways. You won’t be able to get out.”

“First aid kits are on both vans,” Julie announced walking in from the backdoor. “They’re there if anyone needs them. I hope no one does.”

Chuck nodded, looking over their rag tag group one more time. “Let’s move out.”

\----------

A deafening bang exploded to the east of the warehouse signaling the start of the spell.

Darren pressed the button on his watch letting the timer run down. They had thirty minutes.

He waited for another signal. Anything that would alert them that the second spell was in place but nothing came.

“Chuck, something’s wrong,” Darren whispered. He looked back at where they had left Lauren and Joey. The fighting was on the other side of the building but they could have easily been ambushed.

“Give her a minute.”

“Chuck-”

“I said give her a minute.”

“We have to check -

“There!” Chuck’s triumphant whisper didn’t help to ease any of Darren’s misgivings. He had a bad feeling about this from the start and he still had a bad feeling about it.

Chuck moved out of the bushes, following the tiny pinprick of light a little larger than a firefly. Darren cursed whatever genetic mutation had bestowed his brother with endless amounts of idiocy. He thankfully hadn’t inherited the same gene but there was no way Darren wasn’t going to let his idiot brother go into that warehouse alone.

Darren ran after Chuck, stake at the ready. His other hand was placed near his hunter’s knife ready to draw

They reached the doors at the same time, Darren entered first, doing a quick sweep before motioning Chuck in. He swore when his eyes adjusted to the dark. The warehouse was empty, a pure white that seemed to go on forever.

“Darren,” Chuck nodded towards the firefly as it zoomed forward, passing through a wall of energy before disappearing from quickly then reappearing again like it was calling them.

“Come on.”

Chuck led them forward, twisting and turning through corridors they couldn’t see. The inside of the warehouse was under a concealment spell. They hadn’t counted on that but their guide was more than enough to lead them to their destination.

When they finally did, Darren almost fell over the damn thing. It was hidden from view when they right outside the walls but once inside the ornate box that greeted them seemed to fill the room.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a key would you?” Darren asked Chuck. “I don’t think we can carry this out.”

“Give me a second,” Chuck said staring at the box then at the firefly which seemed to be going crazy, zooming around the walls. “I don’t think this is it.”

It stopped on the eastern most wall and Chuck followed reaching out to it. He took one more step and suddenly Chuck was gone.

“Chuck!” Darren yelled, scrambling towards the same direction.

He stopped short when he fell into the room and saw Chris.

“What the fuck?”

Darren knew it wasn’t Chris. It couldn’t be. Chris was outside fighting. He wasn’t with Darren. And he definitely wasn’t holding a baby girl in his arms.

“Heya, princess,” Chris cooed. “You want to play peek-a-boo with dada?”

He carried the tiny bundle to Darren who couldn’t help but do as he was told. She was pink cheeked and bright eyed, shrieking with delight every time Darren peeked from behind his fingers and caught her by surprise.

Chris’ laughed at them both, his smile nothing like Darren had ever seen before. There was no tension around his lips, no weariness in his eyes, no fear just lurking beneath the surface.

There was nothing but pure joy.

“Darren!” the sound of Chuck’s voice barely broke through. Darren couldn’t understand why Chuck would bother them right at that moment. Not when they were all so happy.

He didn’t care about anything else.

The baby giggled once more and Darren reached out, taking a step deeper into the room. Chris seemed to be leading him somewhere and he was happy to follow.

Maybe if Chuck left without him he could stay there forever.

The hand that grabbed Darren’s arm was cold and unwelcome. He tried to fight it but it was too strong.

A loud pop and then there was nothing but the endless white of the roomless warehouse. Cold and harsh.

“We have to leave,” Chuck said his own face pale. In his hand was the scroll they had come for.

Darren nodded, still dazed but running as he and Chuck tried to beat the seconds ticking away.

He wondered for a moment how bad it would be to be trapped there, to be back in that room with Chris and their baby.

Their baby.

She was theirs, there was no doubt about it.

She was beautiful.

A loud beeping from his watch signaled they were almost out of time.

Darren, shook his head to clear it of the vision. No, none of it was real. He followed in Chuck’s heels, pushing towards the exit.

It wasn’t real but Darren swore he could still hear the baby’s laughter even after both he and Chuck had cleared the building, haunting him like a dream he never knew he had.

\----------

“Everyone back in one piece? No broken bones, no concussions? Oh and did you hear, my darling Good Witch of the York here saved the day?” Joey was far too chipper for someone who suffered two cuts from the fight, one superficial and the other needing stitches.

Unfortunately for Chris he was on stitching duty. Julia was busy with Chuck and both Lauren and Joe had taken one look at the wound and made gagging noises.

Lauren wasn’t making gagging noises now, she was practically preening. “I did not.”

“You really did,” Walker said, his own cuts clumsily cleaned and bandaged by his own hands. He had refused Chris’ help saying the scars helped with the ladies. “Those demons came out of nowhere. It also helped we had our very own light saber,” he added with wide grin at Chris.

“I think I was less light saber more flickering light bulb,” Chris corrected. Joe was being extremely gracious with his description. There were more demons than they had anticipated but not enough that they were caught off guard. Chris has tried to use his powers more than once but had only succeeded in throwing one light ball when a demon had jumped Darren right after exiting the warehouse.

Instinct had taken over the moment he saw Darren was in danger, energy rushing through him and out of his fingers in a split second faster than he’d ever been able to do while in training. The ball of light had engulfed the demon before it exploded into nothing.

Chris had a moment of relief before more demons attacked.

“I think MVP still goes to Lauren,” Chris said with a smile at the small brunette.

“It was a simple enchantment,” she replied with a slight bat of her eyelashes. “Nothing to brag about.”

Walker scoffed. “Now you’re humble bragging.”

“Maybe a little. Did you see how confused they were?” Lauren asked, all pretense of humility gone. “One of them tried to bite off his own arm.”

“Better his arm than any of ours,” Darren said walking out of Chuck’s office. He sat down next to Chris, giving him a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Chris looked Darren over for any injuries before carefully packing up the first aid kit.

Darren was fine. Both he and Chuck didn’t look worse for wear but they seemed older somehow, the dark circles under his eyes even deeper than before. Chris wondered what had happened inside the warehouse.

Equally he wondered if he would ever find out.

“So where’s our loot?” Walker asked Darren. “I got my ass handed to me by a butt ugly demon. That thing better be a damn treasure map.”

“Julia’s being her own version of a good little witch and scanning and cataloging it before she lets your grubby hands on them.”

“No one’s grubby hands are getting anywhere near these scrolls,” Julie said as she walked into the room, her hands encased in latex gloves to protect the scroll. “They’re ancient. I’m surprised they survived the scan. It should be in your drive,” she told Oz.

Oz opened his laptop, pulling up the files. He tapped a couple of keys, loading the images into his language program. It was a code he had developed when they were trying to figure out if the marks on Chris’ skin meant anything. It had proven useful for a million other things since then.

The program beeped signaling the end of its cycle. “Nothing here,” Oz said. “I can send these over to some friends but that will take some time.”

Chuck nodded.

“I could try a spell,” Lauren suggested.

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” Chuck asked. “You’re not used to this much power in one night.”

“Don’t worry dad,” Lauren teased. “A tiny translation spell isn’t going to hurt me.”

She grabbed a candle off the shelf, pulling a couple of herbs out her pockets as went. She sprinkled them over the candle and set them in front of the scroll.

“Can you hand me those matches, Chris?”

Chris took the matches she was pointing to and handed them to Lauren. His eyes roaming over the scroll in front of her. It was the first time he was seeing them. His fingers grazed over a sigil scratched into the corners. It looked familiar somehow. Like he’d seen them before.

“I swear, Lopez, if you burn -” Julia warned her as she lit the matches.

“- I promise I won’t burn any of the important parts.”

She closed her eyes, whispering incantations under her breath, louder and louder until the wick burst into flames.

It released a trail of smoked that flowed from the candle and over the scroll, tracking each line and curve.

Once it cleared the group stared at the scroll then at each other.

Nothing happened.

\----------

Across town a pin of light on a map glowed bright blue.

"I found you," a voice sing-songed.

\----------

Disappointment settled in the air.

Lauren had suggested that she might have been more tired than she thought. They had gone to bed with hope that a more rested Lauren would produce better results. They slept, woke up and tried again but the words on the scroll stayed jibberish.

Darren didn’t know what he expected. A simple light show, a couple of big booms, even a leprechaun dancing a little jig. Anything was better than the look on Chris’ face when they realized the scroll wasn’t going to reveal its secrets any time soon.

He set down his cup of tea, rubbing a hand over his face. The lobby was emptier than usual as if everyone else who lived in the hotel had sensed the tension and decided to give them space.

They had all stayed to help with research, hesitant to let go of the hope the scroll had bought and subsequent dashed. Chris sat on his favorite couch, eyebrows knit in frustration.

A part of Darren was upset for Chris but he was ashamed to admit a greater part was relieved. He was never one to buck status quo and no matter how hellish their lives seemed at times what he and Chris had going was working for him. It wasn’t perfect but it was all Darren could have.

Laughter and a pink cheeked baby flashed in his head.

Darren’s breath caught in his chest at the vision. For the first time in years his heart ached for a dream he had long forgotten. There were two things he had always known he wanted to be. One was an actor and musician the second a dad.

Both he and Chuck had given up on that first dream but it took a magical death trap to make Darren realize he still wanted the second one.

He wondered if maybe Chuck was right. Darren didn’t realize how lucky he was that even in the fucked up world they lived in he was able to find Chris. He wondered if he was holding on to too many ghosts, letting the future pass while he carried the weight of his past. 

There was literally nothing stopping him aside from his own head up his ass. Sure, their lives were plagued by more than the usual problems but none of them were normal. Not Chris or Oz or Lauren or even him and Chuck. What normal person knew how to wield twenty different weapons and easily make a dozen more from items off the street?

Their lives were far from normal but maybe that was the point. That regardless of all of the demons and vampires and best friends who could do actual magic spells they still found their way to one another.

He looked around the room. Chuck wasn’t in any way emotionally healthy but he had found a new sense of purpose helping all the people they had met along the way. Same with Oz. Lauren and Joey seemed to be doing fine and much to everyone’s hilarity it seemed that Julia was finally warming up to Joe.

They had all found family in a rundown hotel and most of all they still opened themselves to love.

What were they risking their lives for every night if it wasn’t that?

Darren stood up, hands sweaty with purpose and heart beating wildly on his sleeve. A thousand emotions rushed through him but certainty floated over everything else. After all their years of fighting all the creatures that bumped in the night, he was willing to face up to the one thing that terrified him.

He was in love with Chris.

Darren walked over to where Chris was sitting, head blank as to what he was going to say but determined to say it nonetheless.

Chris looked up, tired eyes lighting up when he saw Darren.

It made his heart flutter in his chest and further strengthened his resolve.

But before Darren could open his mouth an explosion rocked the lobby throwing them all off their feet.

\----------

A loud ringing in Chris’ ears deadened him to everything else. He blinked, once, twice, waiting for his senses to come back one by one.

He was on the floor. One of the couches was on its side. It had barely missed his head.

Chris pushed himself up carefully, making sure there weren’t any broken bones as he went. What the hell happened? Did a bomb go off?

Everywhere around him the lobby was in ruins. The reception desk was broken in two, coffee from the pot dripping down in a river of black. Sunlight was streaming from a large hole where the barricaded double doors used to be.

“What the fuck?” he heard Darren’s voice but wasn’t sure where it was coming from.

Chris looked around at the debris when he noticed a movement at the corner of his eye.

A woman was standing in the middle of the rubble that used to be the boarded up main doors. Her hair a flowing flaming red even in the moonlight, she was frightening and beautiful at the same time. Layer and layers of gauze and fabric surrounded her like she had walked straight off the set of Game of Thrones.

She surveyed the room, her mouth set in a pout that was slightly askew. “Where is he?” she asked, the power in her voice shook the building threatening another collapse.

“Where is the marked one?”

Right above him, the chandelier shook.

She was looking for him.

Around him his friends were slowly getting to their feet, hands on whatever weapon was nearest.

"Now, now no one has to die,” she said cheerfully when she spotted Joey and Julia to her side, crossbows at the ready. “All I need is the little kitten."

"You’re not welcome here," Walker told her his bravado ruined by what looked like the beginnings of a concussion. His eyes were clouded over and there was a cut on his head that was trickling blood down his face.

"I’m not a vampire,” She informed him offended. “Sure I had a hard time tracking you down but that was helped by that little spell your little Wiccan so helpfully cast for me.”

“What? No,” Lauren looked at her then at Chris, distraught. “I didn’t do anything for her.”

“What are you?” Chuck asked, raising his hand to quiet Lauren. “And what spell?”

She tutted at him. “And ruin the surprise? A good goddess doesn’t reveal her secrets.”

A goddess? Chris would have been honored if he wasn’t 100% sure she wanted to kill him.

“Chris, don’t turn around.” A whisper behind him ordered.

“Darren?” he asked under his breath.

“We’ll set up a diversion,” Darren said, his voice low. “When she’s distracted. You run. Call me crazy but I don’t think she can see you.”

“Where is he?” Lily yelled, her eyes flashing, focusing on everyone in the room but him.

Darren was right. He was invisible to her.

Chris looked to his side, eyeing the exit. Maybe Darren’s plan could work.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Lily said, fed up. “I need the little bunny. You people know where he is and you’re going to give him to me or this whole building is coming down.” She smiled as if a great idea had just dawned on her. “You know what? I don't care if the entire city is dead by sunrise. Wanna see how easily I can make that happen?"

“Fuck off, lady.” Joey said, raising his crossbow, Julie mirroring him on his right.

He took one look at the delight on Lily’s face and somehow Chris knew was going to happen even before the arrows released and headed straight for Lily.

There was no time to think or even attempt an energy ball. Chris ran, watching in slow motion as Lily swatted the arrows away like flies, making them change course and head straight for Joey and Julia.

He jumped in front of the arrows, trusting the warmth that quickly spread through to protect both him and his friends.

It took him a breath before he realized it was Joey and Julia who were helping him up. The arrows nowhere in sight.

A slow mocking clap came from Lily. “Heroics. I like it. I was afraid you’d deserted your friends.”

Chris rounded on her not even sure she could hear him. “I’m still here. Leave them alone.”

“I told you I would,” Lily assured him. She could obviously hear Chris but he was still invisible to her. Her eyes looking at his general direction but not directly at him. “I can’t take you but I promise I won’t touch a hair on anyone here or in this city if you come with me.”

“Don’t you dare,” he heard Darren say but Chris refused to look at him. He wasn’t prepared to have Darren’s face be the last thing he saw before he died.

There was a time when he would have run at the first sign of danger but instead he was standing in front of his friends, in front of Darren, needing to choose between protecting them or to keep running.

It really wasn’t a choice.

Slowly, he allowed the fear already circulating in his system to overcome him. It was easy after that for the warmth to spread around him, his marks taking his body’s responses to mean he was in danger.

Lily’s eyes devoured the magic as it worked itself around Chris. When it was done, the smile on her face was terrifying.

At that moment nothing existed but her and her prize.

That was why she didn’t notice when a brunette in leather stepped out from behind the double doors.

"Who summoned Glory 2.0?" she asked, lips made fuller with dark red lipstick stretched in a grin.

Lily spun around, glaring at the newcomer. "Who dares call me by that name? My name is Lily."

"Nice to meet you, Lily,” the new girl answered, circling around her. “I'm Faith. I'm here to kick your ass."

The goddess laughed. "You can try but that's not going to happen."

"I came prepared." Faith said revealing a large hammer from behind her that was vaguely reminiscent of Thor's Mjölnir. With a loud cry she swung the hammer at Lily, hitting her square on the stomach making her fly across the street and into the adjacent building.

The wall crumbled around her burying her bricks and for once Chris was grateful that the little corner store closed during Sundays. He only hoped they had insurance.

Out of the rubble Lily rose, her face murderous.

“Wesley!” Faith yelled before moving towards Lily, the hammer swinging around and around in her hand.

It was only then that Chris noticed there were three more people with Faith. One of them was holding a book and chanting in Latin, the other two were holding weapons of their own flanking Faith on each side forming a wide arc around Lily.

Lily roared her fury shaking the buildings around them. The other woman loaded a crossbow and shot a bolt straight at her. It whistled through the air and would have hit its mark if Lily hadn’t caught it, breaking it into two before throwing it on the ground.

But the shot wasn’t meant to hurt. It was distraction that allowed Faith to land another hit.

Lily staggered backwards. The hammer swung at her again but this time she was ready for it. With a smirk she grabbed the head and used the momentum to slam Faith into the wall.

She walked over to where Faith had crumbled to the floor, wrapping her hand around her throat and muttering unintelligible words under her breath.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Lily asked Faith, lifting her by her neck, choking her.

“Try this on for size,” the guy named Wesley called out. He pulled a cloth sack from his jacket dramatically and threw it at Lily.

She pursed her lips. “This is so annoyi-” the rest of her words were cut off as she disappeared with a flash of light and a small pop.

Chris knew the relief he felt at her disappearance was short lived. She was going to be back and they needed to get everyone out of the hotel.

He took a step towards Chuck’s direction but Darren was suddenly in his face, angrier than Chris had ever seen him.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” he yelled at Chris, making everyone else stop to stare at them.

Chris spluttered, lost for words in the face of Darren’s anger. “She was going to kill everyone. She was going to kill _you._ ”

“And you were what? Going to sacrifice yourself like a good little lamb?”

“What choice did I have?”

Darren opened his mouth to yell at Chris some more but the big guy in the trench coat wolf whistled.

“Sorry to interrupt the shouting match but does any of you know an Oz? Werewolf? About ye tall?” he asked raising his hand to illustrate.

“Present,” Oz said from behind a table. He was also bleeding from a head wound but seemed to be in better shape than Joe.

The other brunette jumped cheerfully towards him. “Oz!” She hugged him carefully mindful of the blood that had trickled down the side of his face. “Oz,” she repeated a happy smile on her face.

“Hey, Cordy,” he said warmly. He nodded at the man in the trench coat. “Angel. Wesley. Faith…?” he raised an eyebrow at the girl in leather. “You’re good now?”

“And I’m also banging the librarian,” she replied with a wink, her hand slapping Wesley’s butt.

Angel stayed outside as everyone else moved inside the hotel. “Do you guys mind? Not like there’s a welcome mat out here.”

“We invite you in, Angel.”

Chris missed the significance of the gesture but beside him Darren froze, his hand automatically reaching for a weapon. “He’s a vampire?”

“Souled vampire,” Cordy corrected him. “He’s on your side. Now that we’ve all caught up. Is there anywhere we can talk? Somewhere that doesn’t reek of, thankfully, no death but a lot of destruction?”

“You can use my office,” Chuck told her. ”Julia can you take care of Walker? Joey we need people to help gets the lobby in order. Lauren you should come with us.”

The rest of them trooped to Chuck’s office. Chris’ lagged behind with Chuck and Wesley still agitated at Darren.

“So you’re their leader?” Wesley asked Chuck.

“I guess.” Chuck replied always humble.

Wesley nodded, chin in the air. “I am also the leader.”

A female voice yelled from Chuck’s room. “Wesley, shut up and get your butt in here.”

\----------

It was a mess of introductions that Darren was only able to keep track of because of an uncanny ability to match names and faces.

Faith, the long haired brunette who straddled the chair like she wanted it to impregnate her was a slayer but she wasn’t _the_ slayer that currently resided in Sunnydale. She was also a fugitive of the law.

Wesley, glasses, a little stiff and very British, was her Watcher or he used to be until she turned to the dark side, tortured him, went to prison and now they were... lovers. There was a story there but it would require a bottle of whiskey Darren was sure.

Angel, the tall broody guy in the coat was a vampire but he had a soul which meant he was good.

“Unless he gets a moment of happiness and then it’s bye Angel, hello Angelus, Scourge of Europe,” Cordy had helpfully added.

Cordy or Cordelia was Angel’s seer. She received visions and they were from the exact same bastards Darren hated with all his guts.

“And my last vision was about you,” she told Chris. “Lily was in it which was why we knew to bring the hammer but we went to the hotel for Oz. We didn’t even know she’d be here until we drove up.”

“What was in your vision?” Chuck asked.

Cordy looked at Angel, a silent exchange between them that revealed nothing to Darren but seemed to speak volumes.

“You were with Lily,” she finally told Chris. “It was underground. There were railroad tracks but they didn’t look they had been used in a while. Also a lot of marble.”

“Seems appropriately vague,” Darren said, clamping his mouth shut when both Chuck and Chris glared at him.

“I was with Lily which means...” Chris trailed off. He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Everyone in their group was thinking it. Lily was going to get to Chris.

Darren instinctively moved towards Chris, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. He knew it was a cliché but the only way Lily was going to get to Chris was over his dead body. It wasn’t much of a threat considering they were up against a goddess but Darren wasn’t going down without a fight.

“That’s why we’re here,” Angel assured him, “to make sure her visions don’t come true.”

It seemed neither were their new friends.

“Oh!” Cordy squealed making them all jump. “In my vision you were glowing. I don’t know what the big deal is. I glow a little too sometimes. Brand new gift from the PTBs.”

Darren figured it was as good news as they were going to get. Chris’ marks protected him. As long as they worked against Lily then Chris would be safe. Even if it meant zilch for the rest of the city.

He looked over at Chuck who was looking at Chris, partly relieved, partly troubled. Darren would bet his brother was thinking the exact same thing he was.

“You glow too?” Chuck asked Cordy. “Do you have the same marks as Chris?”

“Nah, mine are a little less conspicuous. Your markings are why we brought nerdo over here,” she told Chris with a smile and a thumb pointed at Wesley.

Wesley moved to the chair in front of Chris. “May I?” he asked motioning to his arm.

‘I always imagined I’d undress in front of an attractive British man under very different circumstances,” Chris muttered as he started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Well, yes, this is all in a day’s work.” Wesley said, preening at being called attractive. It earned him an eye-roll from Faith and a glare from Darren.

Wesley’s hands glossing over Chris’ skin but not quite touching which Darren thought was for the best. He had a knife strapped to his ankle in case the guy’s hands got fresh.

“Fascinating,” Wesley commented, oblivious to Darren’ train of thought. “These aren’t simple markings. These symbols are reminiscent of Enochian, these ones are similar to Sanskrit but not quite. Others are completely foreign to me. It’s almost like a hybrid of different languages put together.”

“Enochian,” Angel repeated. He turned to Oz. “Is that why you were asking about the Oracles?”

Oz nodded. “It was a dead end.”

“Can Lorne read him?” Cordy asked.

“I suppose but he’s all the way in California,” Wesley said, giving Chris permission to button up again. “And he isn’t exactly an expert in languages although I admit he knows a bit more than I do-“

Cordy raised her hand at Wesley. “Unbristle, British man. I meant read his aura. You guys have a phone around here don’t you?”

A couple of minutes later Chuck’s cell phone was on speaker and a loud jovial voice was coming from the other end.

"What is it with you hero types and abandoned hotels? I can practically hear the wallpaper peeling all the way from here."

A softer, shyer voice piped up. "Gunn's crew had a warehouse."

"I'm sure it was lovely, my little braso de mercedes. Very shabby chic. Now where's our little lightning bug?"

Chris moved closer to the phone on the coffee table. “Hi?”

“It’s been a busy day you’ve had,” the voice from the phone said sympathetically.” Let’s hope it doesn’t get a lot busier. Now sing for Uncle Lorne."

Chris shook his head forgetting for a moment that the guy on the other line couldn't see him. "I - I - can't. I don't sing."

"Didn’t they explain to you the drill? I read auras but only if people sing. And I don't care how tone deaf you are, my honey pavlova. Ask the big lug. Just a couple of notes so we can get this show on the road."

“Chris, we don’t have time. Lily could come back any second.” Chuck told him gently.

Darren stared at the queasy look on Chris’ face and made a decision. "Can you read him even if there's someone else singing?"

"Duets always make things interesting," Lorne said absolutely delighted. "Go ahead."

He looked at Chris and smiled. “Just look at me. We’re just singing in the shower.”

Chris looked dubious but as Darren started off with the first few lines of “You Make Me Feel So Young” it was natural how Chris jumped in on the second line their voices blending seamlessly.

Darren was slightly off-key unused to singing after staying dormant for so long but it was worth it to hear Chris sing, his eyes fixed only on Darren a smile playing on his face as they both lost themselves in the melody.

The last notes of the song tapered off and Darren was hit with a sudden vision of him and Chris dancing around a loft in their underwear, as domestic as they come.

"First of all,” Lorne said, catching them all by surprise. “What are you two doing holed up in that old hotel when you should obviously be on Broadway. Those pipes! I am jealous!”

He laughed nervously when he didn’t receive a reaction from either Chris or Darren. “Secondly, are ratty hotels and a whopping plate of sexual tension part of the messiah complex package? You two are going to give Angelcakes and the Princess a run for their money. We’re going to discuss this whole drama between you at length.”

"Lorne," Angel warned. "Quit stalling and tell him what you saw."

An audible sigh escaped from the phone's speakers. "I still say you two are due for a little couple’s therapy with me but fine. Don’t shoot the messenger but The Powers have information on you locked down. I’m sorry, waffle bun, I can't tell you what the marks mean or if it has a grander purpose other than having your very own vampire zapper.”

Darren’s good mood from the song dissipated quickly. “Is there anything anyone can tell us that isn’t reminiscent of reading tea leaves?”

“I am not a psychic hotline,” Lorne said the warmth leaving his voice.

Chagrined, Darren apologized. It wasn’t right to take out his frustration on a complete stranger who was more than willing to help them out. “I know you’re all messengers but your Powers That Be are getting repetitive with the constant vagueness.”

“Forgiven. You champion types are always so testy,” Lorne said his teasing warmth back. “As I was saying. Chris, I didn’t see much but I can tell you this. You weren’t born with those marks. They were branded on you.”

There was silence the words weighing heavy in the air. A cold hand seemed to be tracking circles up Darren’s spine. Branded meant on purpose. Chris had his marks for as long as he could remember which meant that someone had thought it was a great idea to take a child and use him as a…

Realization hit him the same time it hit Chris.

“Branded on me?” Chris asked faintly. “I’m basically a scroll?”

Darren’s head snapped up, his eyes meeting Oz’s then Chuck’s.

Goddamned Assholes That Be.

They all knew at the exact same time where the Scrolls of Kosundi were. The Powers weren’t asking them to find it.

Chris _was_ the scroll.

Lorne’s voice spoke up from the phone. “If they’re going through all this trouble to keep things quiet about you then it must contain be powerful stuff. You broke your protection the moment you revealed yourself to Lily so someone needs to put that concealment spell back on you stat.”

Wesley nodded. “I can set it up but I’m going to need a second. I hear you’re a Wicca?” he asked Lauren.

“I’m not sure if I should,” Lauren said tentative for the first time since Darren had met her. “You heard what Lily said. It was my spell that allowed her to find Chris in the first place.”

“Yes, she did,” Wesley trailed off, in thought. “Can I see that scroll?”

Chuck took the scroll from his safe, handing it to Wesley who studied it for a minute before looking up. “Yes, do you see these symbols.” he asked Lauren, pointing at the edges. “They’re a beacon meant to go off the moment any sort of magic with the same signature as Chris’ markings hit it. It had always been meant to find Chris, spell or no spell.”

“That scroll isn’t real?” Chuck asked.

“Oh, it is but put simply. It’s been tampered. These weren’t part of the original text.”

“So it wasn’t my fault Lily found him?” Laurel asked.

“If you blame yourself for that then you might was well blame me for going after the scroll in the first place,” Chuck told her.

Darren stared at Chuck who earnestly refused to look at Darren. If he knew his brother, and he knew him damned well, Chuck was blaming himself even if he was saying otherwise to comfort Lauren.

When all of the Lily business was over he was going to kick the crap out of Chuck’s informant.

“Okay,” Cordy said. “We put the spell back on you. Throw in some additional wards for the hotel and then we need to get you out of here.”

Darren nodded, fingers coming up to rub at his temples. It was shitty thing to do to Chris but staying in New York wasn't an option. Not when Lily knew exactly how to get to him.

Of course, it didn’t mean Chris wasn’t going down without a fight.

“I’m not going anywhere," Chris said, jaw set stubbornly. "You heard her. She’s going to level the entire city.”

“Not if we get to her first,” Faith said. She smirked, eyes dark and dangerous. “Laying the smack down on that bitch is what I’m here for.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Darren said cutting off Chris’ protest. "We put the spell back on you and then you leave with them. Tonight."

“No, I’m not,” Chris said pissed off at being told what to do.

“It’s the best course of action.” Chuck told him gently.

"Cordy and I can take you," Faith said. “Angel isn't really a big fan of the sun.”

“I’m not leaving,” Chris repeated. “I have been running from her all my life and I’m not going to do it now.”

"Where are you taking him?" Darren asked as if Chris hadn’t spoken.

"Unfortunately we can't tell you that. Not when Lily is still after him," Wesley explained.

Darren closed his eyes, hands curling into fists. He wasn't going to lose Chris to Lily but he was going to lose him either way. Indefinitely was better than forever.

"That assumes I'm going anywhere," Chris snapped, annoyed at being ignored.  "Which I'm not. If you’re going after Lily then so am I."

"No, you’re not.” Darren said his voice rising. “This is for your own good, Chris.”

"You expect to just walk away? Just like that? Like this whole thing isn’t because of me? No. You don't get to make this decision for me."

Chris’ sharp tone almost made Darren flinch but he wasn’t backing down. His eyes were hard, refusing to give in. "You're not staying. You're an idiot if you think being here is going to help anything. It’s just going to make things worse."

Hurt flashed in Chris’ eyes before quickly turning ice cold.

Darren groaned, as what he had said sunk in. "Chris, that's not what I meant."

“I know perfectly well what you meant. You’ve been making it clear that I can’t take care of myself and that I’m any use to the team. If that’s what you think then fine. Might as well pack my bags.”

Chris strode out of the room before anyone could stop him, almost running into Joey and Julia in his hurry.

“Fuck!” Darren ran one hand wiping over his face, another clutching in his curls.

“Really stepped into shit there, frat boy,” Faith commented helpfully.

Darren ignored her, leaving them to go after Chris. He wasn’t going to let it end like that. Not when there was even the smallest chance that this was the last time he was going to see Chris.

\----------

Chris slammed the door to his suite hard enough to make the wood shake. How dare he? Emotions tumbled inside him, piling up on top of each other. Fury mixed with heartache mixed with loss.

For the first time in his life he had a home. He had a family. And now they were tearing that away from him and Darren of all people had the nerve to make him feel like he was expendable.

He was trembling with so much rage he was surprised he wasn't glowing from it.

A creak signaled the door opening and he knew exactly who was in his doorway. Chris grabbed the bag under his bed, not even looking up as he heard the door close.

“Chris-”

“Don’t.” Anger was easier to deal with than the hole in his chest. He clung to it with both hands, wielding it like a weapon to shield himself from the pain. “You said what you wanted to say and you made it perfectly clear that none of you needed me.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No,” Chris whirled at him, tears in his eyes. ”Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. This isn’t something you can fix with an apology and sex. This is more than you and me. This is my home. My family.”

“I know. I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean to what? To tell Chuck that I can’t take of myself? That I can’t control my powers? That I’m nothing more than a mission?”

Darren looked at him confused. “What?”

“I heard you talking about me. More than once,” Chris said when it seemed Darren was going to interrupt him. He laughed without humor. “I’ve been pretending I didn’t. Hoping you didn’t mean what you said that it was a misunderstanding because I can’t seem to stop myself from believing the best in you, to keep myself from loving you.”

His voice broke at the last words. He closed his eyes suddenly overcome with embarrassment. What did he just say? God, he was pathetic. Laying his heart out to a man who he knew was so fucked up emotionally Chris didn’t even know if it registered with Darren that their relationship was more than a gentle fuck in the night for him.

Darren seemed to be at a loss for words as he was. He cleared his throat, taking a step towards Chris. "Look, I didn't want this -"

Chris world came crashing down around him. Fuck. It wasn’t supposed to hurt that much. He had never let himself hope, had never dared to think Darren would ever be emotionally available enough for whatever it is that his heart was so stupidly wishing for but actually hearing those words from Darren was a cold dose of reality.

"Don’t worry," he bit out, cutting off the rest of Darren’s sentence. He hated that his voice was trembling. "I get it. Okay, Darren? You’ve made it clear all this time that it was no string attached between us and I’m the idiot who tried to believe otherwise.”

“Chris-”

“Don’t worry,” Chris knew he was repeating himself but he couldn’t think. Not when Darren was looking at him like a kicked puppy. He grabbed his Sais, pausing for a millisecond before grabbing the wooden ones as well and then stashing them forcefully into his bag. “I’ll be out of your hair soon enough. Tonight in fact. That’s what you wanted isn’t it? Get me out of the way as soon as possible.”

“That’s not-”

“I’ll be gone and you won’t have to worry about me or my stupid marks or scroll or whatever the fuck I’m supposed to be. You don’t have to pretend to care-”

"Can you shut up?" Darren yelled, startling Chris.

Chris froze, his hand still buried inside his bag while Darren paced the room, his hands flying wildly.

"God, you never listen do you?” Darren said. “You're stubborn and hard-headed and you never fucking listen.”

“I have been-”

“No, you don’t. You don’t listen. You’ve already made up your mind before you even talked to me. You keep things like that stupid conversation with Chuck and assume you know what’s going on inside my head.”

“Believe me, I never know what going inside your head.”

“Fucking-” Darren, let out a frustrated breath, stopping in front of Chris and grabbing his arms to stare him in the eye. “I am trying to tell you I'm in love with you too and you won't even fucking shut up for one second to hear it."

That definitely shut him up. Darren was in love with him?

Chris stood still, heart aching, throat dry as the desert.

Darren was in love with him?

“All that shit you’re spinning around in your head isn’t true and you know it. I told you I can’t lose you and that’s the truth. That’s why I need you as far away from here as possible. I don’t know if I can stand it you d-" Darren couldn’t even bring himself to say the word. “I’m so fucking scared. You have no idea but I can’t not be in love with you. I tried. It didn’t stick.”

Chris laughed, wet with tears. Not of heartbreak as he had feared but of relief and happiness. “You tried huh?”

“More than once,” Darren admitted sheepishly. He let go of Chris’s arms, one hand moving to cup Chris’ cheek gently. Darren leaned forward to let their lips meet in a kiss that no longer held secrets or what ifs.

Chris found Darren’s other hand and their fingers tangled together in an embrace more intimate than all the times they’d fallen in bed together. He wished he could stay, lock himself and Darren in his suite all night and emerge in the morning to realize it was all a dream.

But they didn’t have the night.

They had that moment.

In that moment they could forget about the threat of their world’s end. It was easy to let the world fall away and pretend it was just the two of them, Chris and Darren, and hope that soon all would be right in their world.

\----------

Chris’ moment lasted a couple of hours before he was back in Chuck’s office sitting in the middle of a circle, surrounded by candles. Wesley was to his right and Lauren to his left, both chanting words he couldn’t understand. Smoke rose from the bowl of herbs in front of him and he fought the urge to cough. It was important not to disrupt the spell if it was going to work properly. That was why the three of them were alone in the darkened office with nothing or no one to disturb the ritual.

Sparks danced inside the bowl which slowly lifted up and around him. He wanted to brush them away as they came closer and closer but he didn’t, allowing them to embed against the writing on his skin making them glow a deep orange brown before fading into the usual blue glow.

“ _Num celare potero deos_ ,” Wesley and Lauren said at the same time and Chris could feel the familiar warmth spread through him only this time instead of intensifying the light around him faded into his skin until it was a tempered gleam.

“This is going to stop right?” Chris asked when he was sure they were finished. “I’m not going to end up looking like a sparkly Twilight vampire?”

“It should be gone in a few of minutes,” Lauren told him with a tired smile.

“Thank you,” he told her, giving her a hug. It was a goodbye as well as a thank you.

“That went splendidly,” Wesley complimented Lauren before turning to Chris. “Cordy and Faith are waiting for you at the lobby.”

Chris nodded, a lump in his throat.

“Before you go, I promised I’d give you a little alone time,” Lauren told him with a wink. “Please don’t have sex on Chuck’s couch. We like having Oz around and you know how sensitive his nose is.”

“Yes, ma’am. All bodily fluids will be kept to myself,” Chris said with a laugh.

She opened the door and outside waiting was Darren.

Chris didn’t notice Lauren and Wesley slip away. He was quickly enveloped in a shuddering hug, Darren’s face buried in his neck.

“The one time I remember to get my head out of my ass,” Darren mumbled against his skin.

“What’s that?” Chris asked trying to keep his tone light. “I think that ‘I’m an ass’ part bears repeating.”

Darren raised his head to look at Chris, his eyes bright with both tears and laughter. “I am an asshole,” he repeatedly dutifully. “One who is very much in love with you.”

It was horrible and unfair and Chris wanted to wail and rally at every Power that seemed dead set on allowing them as little as possible but not when he had this to come back to, not when home finally meant Darren not just in his bed, but in his heart too.

Provided of course neither of them died before then.

Darren seemed to read his mind because he suddenly said fiercely, "Don't you fucking die on me."

A laugh bubbled out of Chris' chest. "I promise I'll try my best."

It was all they could promise in the hope that it would be enough.

\----------

“Lauren and I have been working on casting wards around the hotel,” Wesley informed them. “It won’t protect you from all dangers but it will hide you from Lily.”

“Sort of like 12 Grimmauld Place,” Lauren said, sharing a smile with the other New Yorkers at the Harry Potter reference.

“Yeah, but without all that Secret Keeper business,” Faith added. When everyone turned to look at her she shrugged. “What? I read. We get a lot of down time in the pen. You ready glow stick?”

Chris nodded, giving each of them a hug in turn. He turned to Darren last.

Darren didn’t care that there was a roomful of people this time. He planted a long, kiss on Chris prompting a hoot from Joey and Walker and a wolf whistle from Faith

“Don’t worry, lover boy. We’ll watch his ass for you. As long as you stay off English’s ass okay?” Faith asked with a saucy grin.

Darren laughed at the suddenly beet red Wesley. “I’ll do my best but accents are a weakness.”

Cordy rolled her eyes at them. “It’s a wonder anything gets done with all this flirting.”

“Yeah, which of us was snuggled against our friendly neighborhood vamp the whole flight over?” Faith shot back.

“Bite me, Faith.”

“I’m not sure how safe I feel with Thelma and Louise,” Chris told Darren with a smile.

“Whatever happens don’t let them drive off any cliffs.”

Darren held his hand for as long as he could but too soon Chris pulled away, following Faith and Cordy to the back door.

He sighed, turning his attention to the discussion being led by Chuck and Angel, both groups catching each other up on what they had been able to find out.

Thirty minutes later they were down to the details.

“Right,” Angel replied after Lauren finished explaining how long before the wards would set in. “We take whoever wants to come but everyone else should be safe in the hotel.”

“We’re going to need a bigger boat,” Oz told them. “I just got off the phone with Sunnydale. They had a goddess problem on their hands last year too. Turns out Lily is from the same dimension.”

“I heard,” Wesley said. “But Glorificus was trapped in a human form, banished from their dimension. Her powers while formidable were limited. Lily doesn’t seem to have the same issues based on what she’s threatened.”

“We know the hammer works on her,” Joey said. “And Chris’ powers worked on the arrows even though they were imbibed with her magic.”

Angel agreed. “Chris could definitely stand his own against her but it’s too risky when we’re still not sure what she wants from him.”

“Well that’s one thing we don’t have to worry about.”

“Think again.”

At the sound of Cordy’s voice, Darren’s blood ran cold. He didn’t need to look to know that Chris wasn’t with them but his heart wished that he was wrong as he turned around.

Faith was a mess. Blood ran down a gash on her head and her arm was at an odd angle, dislocated at the shoulder.

Wesley and Angel helped Cordelia to lay her on a couch. Faith seemed conscious but her teeth were gritted in pain.

“I’ll get the medical supplies,” Julia said, rushing away.

Lauren looked at Faith then Cordelia. He voice trembled, “but the spell…”

“Your spell worked fine. She tagged Faith,” Cordy said, her voice rough. She winced clutching her stomach which Darren noticed was also covered in blood. Angel was at her side immediately examining the gash on her stomach.

“You need to sit down,” he told her guiding her to another couch.

“The wound is shallow,” Cordy said shooing him away, a gentle smile conveying her thanks. “That parting shot of Lily’s wasn’t a hit she put some sort of homing beacon on Faith. We led her straight to Chris.”

“How do we get him back?” Darren asked his voice level. He didn’t care about the how or when or what the fuck Lily was after all he cared about was finding Chris.

"We need to figure out where they went first," Chuck said, always the voice of reason. It grated at Darren but he knew his brother was right they needed information first.

Faith grunted. "Don't worry, mop head,” she said her voice weak but still with her signature sass. “We have a little present for you. He's in the trunk."

Angel turned to Chuck. "Tell your team to get ready to head out. I'll deal with him."

\----------

For the first time since meeting him Darren understood why Angel’s unsouled alter ego was written of with such fear.

Angelus was known as one of the most brutal demons in history. He was sadistic and found increasingly creative ways to torture his victims.

The bit he did with the vampire was mostly an act but Darren could easily imagine a soulless Angel capable of following through with his threats. He wondered how Cordelia was able to deal with that, to accept and love him demon and all.

She had been watching the whole proceedings unflinching.

Darren had wanted to stay. He was used to violence but always in defense or survival. Never in a way to intentionally hurt someone, person or vampire.

He sat in the hallway instead leaving both Angel and Cordelia in the empty room with the vampire.

It was an hour before they stepped out.

“He can’t talk,” Angel reported, frustration creasing his forehead.

“You can make him talk,” Darren insisted, scrambling to his feet. They couldn’t give up on Chris. It wasn’t an option.

“Not won’t,” Angel clarified. “Can’t.”

The three of them moved to the lobby where everyone was waiting for news.

“He’s under a spell. All he can say is ‘the gates of hell shall open and her reign will begin’.”

“God, what is it with these hell dimensions and wanting to merge with our world?” Cordelia asked. “It’s not like we have prime real estate.”

“Well, technically theirs is a hell dimension,” Wesley told her. “So really our world is eons better.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “The point is they need to find another dimension to take over.”

“How do we find them?”

“The one in Sunnydale was in a tower but magic words differently at the Hellmouth. It would need to be much closer to the ground. He mentioned that they had built her temple so it should be new.”

Joey cracked the tiniest of smiles. “I don’t think my NYmag mentioned any new underground temple grand openings.”

Darren paused, a brief conversation flitting into his brain.

_“...all the noise they’re making at the old Waldorf. Enough to drive a sound-sensitive demon mad.”_

He looked at Chuck, for the first time hope clear in his eyes.

“I know where they are.”

\----------

Consciousness came to Chris slowly. He blinked trying to clear the fog in his brain and bring the world back into focus. He remembered snippets. The car crashing into the lamp post when Faith had to swerve to avoid a van suddenly in front of them. Heat from an explosion.

A dizzying flood of memories flooded him. He raised himself, retching with nausea when he realized that he couldn’t move. A thick metallic bracelet encircled his wrists. It was attached to a link of chains tethered to a marble slab.

Chris sucked in a breath trying to keep calm. Fuck. Of all the stupid, idiotic things to do. He had to pretend the hero. He was the last thing to a hero. But stuck in that intersection with just the three of them against Lily there was nothing he could do. It was either that of Faith or Cordy die because of him. There was no choice to make.

Self-preservation didn’t seem to be his strong suit when it came to his friends. In the same way he had run in front of those arrows for Julia and Joey with only the hope of his magic protecting him.

Magic. Chris pulled at the chain, eying the bracelet. It was thick but it didn’t look magical. If the light that protected him could disintegrate those arrows then maybe…

He breathed in, pulling at the warmth inside of him, calling on them to come to the surface.

Chris felt the barest hint of warmth against the tips of his fingers but something was wrong. It felt weighed down and heavy. They were just beyond his grasp. If only he could reach, draw them forward.

“I can taste it, you know.”

His eyes snapped open at the voice. A few feet away from him was Lily, red hair swept away from her face in a bun that made her look both regal and devilish.

“That power inside of you,” she continued. “It’s delicious but not as important as what’s right there blazing against that amazing porcelain skin. They say beauty is more than skin deep but for you gorgeous it’s right there.”

“What do you want from me?” Chris asked, trying to keep the fear and anger out of his voice.

“Why what all goddesses want, a larger kingdom,” she explained patiently, humoring his curiosity. “Your slayer was kind enough to kill that horrible Glorificus for us and when my sister and I found out we jumped at the chance to expand our dominance. With The Key gone you were our only hope,” she laughed, clapping her hands together. “It’s a good thing those monks decided that it would be better to have a spare just in case.”

“I’m a Key?” he asked. The longer he kept her talking the longer he would be kept alive and hopefully be able to find a way to escape.

“No, darling. You’re a...” she paused as if in thought. “You’re a lock combination is what you are. Your magic, your blood that little spell etched on your skin has the power to blow the door to our home wide open. See the monks had intended you as a way to close the door but it’s a nifty little treat that it works both ways.”

“What monks?” He had never met those monks and he didn’t give a shit who they were. If Chris ever met they would get a solid punch on the nose.

Lily tutted condescendingly. “Hush now. Story time is over. We’ll be back home before you know it. Or rather, home will come to us. I’m sorry to say I’m not sure your world will survive mine.’

“You said you wouldn’t hurt them.”

“I won’t,” Lily promised. “The creatures from my world however? They can be brutal. I’m a goddess, not a dictator. I can’t tell them what to do. Well, I can but where’s the fun in that?”

Chris swallowed at the suddenly hungry look on Lily’s face.

“Don’t worry. You won’t be alive to watch them suffer,” she said with the softest of smiles. From beneath her robes she pulled out a gold dagger.

\----------

It wasn’t so much a plan as a desperate act.

Darren knew that the moment the old underground platform of the Waldorf Astoria came into view. It had been completely transformed. What once was an old and decrepit railroad platform looked the lobby of the Astoria itself. The main platform had been replaced by a large dais, massive stone pillars surrounded it. In the middle was a slab of marble surrounded by marbles. Lying on top of which was Chris.

“You had better be alive, goddammit,” Darren muttered under his breath.

He didn’t notice Lily standing right behind Chris until she raised her arms, words spilling out of her mouth.

She was holding a dagger. And it was dripping with blood.

Darren didn’t think. He didn’t wait. All he saw was red.

It was pure luck that the rest of them were right behind him. But he didn’t care.

The battle had begun.

And there was no way he going to lose Chris.

\----------

The room was bathed in it. The sound of both metal and skin tearing echoed in the cavern.

Chris coughed, the taste of copper filling his mouth. He didn't have time to wonder where the blood was coming from. Light had started to glow from the freshly carved words on his skin. The spell was complete.

Lily stood above him, the pupils of her eyes gone, replaced by a bottomless black. Words he didn't understand tumbled out of her mouth and he could feel its pull, feel the magic feeding the marking on his chest.

It was over. Years of running and fighting had lead to the same ending. He always knew his life was a Greek tragedy. He had only hoped no one else would be caught in its collapse.

Their eyes caught at the same time and Chris wished he could yell out to him. Order him to leave. Order him to get every one of their friends out of the death pit Chris had helped create. But when had Darren ever done anything Chris told him.

Chris raised his head, dizzy from the pain and bloodless. He wasn’t supposed to move, Lily had threatened him more than once as she carved new words into his skin but he couldn’t let Darren get hurt because of him.

\----------

Lily pulled Chris by the arm, superhuman strength easily snapping it into two.

"Chris!" Darren screamed, his feet moving as fast as they could to get to the other side of the room.

Darren dodged a vampire who lunged at him, pulled a stage from his belt and expertly threw it at his attacker. He didn’t watch to see if it hit his mark. Darren knew it did even before he heard the vampire scream behind him

His eyes were on Lily. She was whispering something in Chris’ ear looking straight at Darren.

Helpless, Darren watched as Chris’ eyes slid away from him. Like he was giving up hope.

\----------

Lily leaned in close to whisper in Chris’ ear. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going to let you die. I’m going to let you watch as each and every one of them dies. I’ll save him for last.” she growled grabbing Chris’ hair and forcing him to look at Darren. “I’ll make sure he goes slowly. Until he’s begging for death.”

Lily released him roughly, his head slamming hard against the marble. Chris gritted his teeth against the pain, forcing himself to breathe even as his heart hammered violently inside his chest.

Darren. He had to warn them.

There was only one way he could.

Chris’ pushed through the pain and emotions and searched for the quiet he could reach only by his meditations with Oz.

All the noise of the fighting, the blood from his wounds, the sharpness of Lily’s tongue as she finished her spell washed away to reveal only one thing.

It was his love for Darren and his desire to protect him that allowed Chris to harness his powers the last time and he would need that to do it again.

The dagger fell against his skin and Chris’ mouth spit blood but it didn’t matter.

Warmth was gathering inside him and it was only a matter of time.

\----------

Darren sprinted through the room, making quick work of anyone who dared attack him. His eyes remained on the dais. Chris’ arm was definitely broken but there was something different about the way he was holding his body.

He sidestepped another vampire, refusing to engage as he made his way closer to Chris.

Lily continued with her spell, releasing the knife as the magic overtook her.

The room became deathly quiet and then Chris’ body arched off the platform and the light pulsed once, twice.

Darren ran.

He was too late.

Light engulfed them all the words branded on Chris' skin released its power rising into a crescendo then a blinding wave.

The last thing he saw before the impossibly bright light forced him to close his eyes was Chris' bloody hand reaching into the rubble and gripping the fallen knife.

\----------

It happened so quickly Chris wasn’t sure it was even him who had done it.

The metal around his wrists had dissolved releasing him from his chains. Lily had noticed nothing, the spell taking over and using her as a conduit. As the magic coursed through her she was not a goddess. A mere vessel. It was easy for Chris to grab the fallen knife and stab her in the heart

When it was done, he collapsed against the marble.

Darkness welcomed him like an old friend.

\----------

Darren could barely see, still blinded from the light but he was already running again. He dropped down beside Chris. Darren’s heart was in his throat as he cradled Chris’ head, fingers searching for a pulse.

A silent second.

Grief threatened to consume Darren when he suddenly felt movement underneath his fingertips.

A heartbeat.

Oh God, thank you.

Darren closed his eyes, complete and utter relief bringing tears to his eyes. He would have held Chris if he could but cuts still marred his flesh. It was enough knowing he was alive.

“You’d think I almost died or something.”

Darren’s eyes flew open, letting out a choked laugh at the sound of Chris’ voice.

Chris smiled weakly but his eyes were alert and full of love that Darren had taken for granted for too long.

“I love you,” Darren said, the steadiness of his voice hiding the rapid beating of his heart. Words that he had tried to deny for so long tumbled out easily now. It was like coming home.

Chris stroked Darren’s cheek with his thumb, holding his gaze. “I love you.”

For a brief second Darren wondered how much time had to pass between a life and death situation and a marriage proposal.

That moment was broken when Chris suddenly winced, having accidentally moved his injured arm. “Help me up,” he asked Darren.

"What is it with you and breaking your arm, Colfer?"

"You think they'd choose a different appendage next time?" Chris joked.

"There's not going to be a next time, you hear me?"

The intensity in Darren's eyes seemed to surprise Chris. He answered with a solemn nod. Kissing Darren to seal the promise.

“”You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

\----------

“Goddammit, Chuck!”

Chris froze an overwhelming sense of déjà vu rushing through him. He sat in the weapons room, whittled stakes in a row in front of him.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving,” Darren continued. It was different from the last time though. Not just their lives but even the way that Darren’s voice contained no heat.

Chris wondered what the brothers were arguing about.

“Think of it as a paid vacation,” Chuck said happily. “You and Chris deserve it.”

“And you don’t?”

“Wesley got back with the translation. We have work to do.

“Chuck-”

“Work that does not include you and Chris,” Chuck said sincerely. “Who I bet you is listening to us right now.”

Chris blushed at being caught. “It’s a public area!”

“Eavesdropping again,” Darren asked, leaning against the doorway. “Haven’t we learned from the last time?”

“Yes,” Chris replied haughtily. “We learned to ask. What was that about?”

Darren sat down next to him, an odd look on his face. He shrugged before saying, “Mom and Dad are vacationing through Europe for a couple of months. They need a house sitter.”

Chris raised his eyebrows. “And Chuck volunteered us?”

“Yeah. I mean after the last couple of months you could use some down time,” Darren’s thumb stroked Chris skin, following patterns that were new to both of them. Chris still had his old marks but they were not crisscrossed with additional scars from where Lily had used his skin as her notepad.

He still woke up, soaked in sweat from the nightmares but Darren was always there to talk him down. It didn’t matter where he was, as long as he had Darren by his side.

“It’s nearer to the Hellmouth,” Chris reminded Darren but the smile on his face said that he would agree to whatever Darren wanted.

And if Darren wanted to go home, Chris would be there with him.

It wasn’t hard to imagine an uncomplicatedly happy Darren when he grinned at Chris like that.

He brought Chris’ fingers to his lips and kissing them. “I think demons generally avoid the hometown. The Comic Con crowd ruins their appetite.”

Chris nodded, smiling happily before he remembered. “Chuck mentioned Wesley’s translation?”

The corners of Darren’s mouth creased into a frown. “I don’t know what it’s about yet but Chuck didn’t look happy.”

"It's not over."

Darren shook his head. "No, it's not, but that isn't our fight. Not anymore.

Fingers always a bit too sweaty, a bit too warm laced against his cold ones. After all that time fighting were they really going to move on like none of it had ever happened? Were they just going to walk out the door and go back to their lives? Was it really that simple?

Darren leaned towards Chris, knee sliding against thighs. Lips fitted over lips, their kiss containing tenderness and a languidness that they never had before. It was a kiss shared a thousand times and Chris hoped they could share for a thousand more.

They pulled away slowly, fingers still laced around Darren’s smiles on both their faces.

"We'll come back," Chris said.

Darren nodded. "When they need us we'll come back."

Was it really that simple?

Maybe it finally was.

**Author's Note:**

> [find me on tumblr!](http://djchika.tumblr.com)


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